The Way to Raise an Heir
by DuchessRaven
Summary: Sequel to The Way to an Heir. Their daughter is born. All that's left is to raise her, and that's easier than fighting wars, right? AxI COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaaaaand here's the sequel. I must confess that this story took quite a bit out of me and I worry that people won't like it as it goes.

If you haven't read The Way to an Heir, I suggest reading that one first. Don't worry. It's good, or so people tell me. If you really don't want to, well, basic gist is Alucard and Integra, after a lot of hardship and struggles, had a daughter together and finally admitted their feelings for each other.

This story was supposed to be funny and relaxed and cute, and focuse on Alucard and Integra making blunders as parents. This first chapter is how I originally intended the whole story to be. But something happened and the story took an unexpected turn for seriousness and mystery. There is still plenty of AxI stuff, parenting issues, Convention issues, but much more serious and a little angsty. I won't bore you with details. I'll just cross my fingers and hope people like it.

Enjoy & review!

THE WAY TO RAISE AN HEIR

Chapter 1

Her name was Anessa Elizabeth Cneajna, surname Hellsing.

The events that led up to her birth were extraordinary and chaotic to say the least, but her arrival was joyous. She was healthy, beautiful, and royal blood flowed in her veins from the joining of two ancient, powerful families. She was special, both blessed and cursed, which in the end somehow balanced out. She was a miracle.

Her father was a vampire, one of the most powerful on Earth at that, wise and strong with age. She inherited his sharp senses, reflexes, and peculiar tastes. Her mother was a woman of steel, a natural leader on all accounts. She inherited her intelligence, determination, and cool, collected demeanor.

Already the life laid out before her was filled with challenges and hardship, glory and dishonor, obstacles and comrades. She was to become the new leader of Hellsing one day, take over for her mother and lay down the road for vampire hunting for the next generation.

But right now, it's time to change her diaper.

oOo

Seras leaned over the crib. The baby inside gurgled and opened her eyes. Seras grinned. Annie always knew when she was near. She was definitely master's daughter. She stuck out her tongue and made a face. The baby giggled in delight.

"Hello Annie," she said. "And how are you this evening?"

The baby babbled and clapped her hands. Seras felt a tingle in her mind as Annie poked around inside. It was their form of communicating, at least until Annie learned how to talk anyway. At four months she had already mastered a respectable degree of telepathy, although most of it involved projecting the desire to feed, play, or be changed to the nearest person available. Every now and then she would seek out new things in other people's minds, like she was doing now. A human, or even a lesser vampire, wouldn't have felt it.

She found an image from Seras' last mission – blood, guns, ghouls, and vampires – and got a confused look on her face. Seras chuckled.

"When you grow up I'll explain that to you," she said, stroking the baby's cheek. "But you don't have to worry about that right now." She paused for a moment to reconsider. "Well, considering your parents, maybe you do. I think it's too early to teach a baby about vampires, but with Integra you never know…"

"She'll learn at her own pace."

Seras straightened as Walter approached with a bottle filled with pink liquid. It was milk, mostly. A small amount of medical blood had been added to it. Though Annie did not seem to require blood to live, they have found that giving her a mixture with milk made her digest better.

Walter picked up the baby and fed her with the bottle, smiling as she sucked eagerly.

"It's been a long time, Miss Victoria," he said. "The last baby I took care of was Lady Integra."

Seras nodded, though it was hard to imagine Integra as anything other than the steel maiden she knew. "Do you think maybe she already knows on some level?" she asked. "Maybe she already senses that she's different."

"That I don't know," replied Walter, rocking the baby. "She's already displaying many vampiric traits, though on a lesser extent than normal. I don't think she can comprehend it as being abnormal just yet."

"Master says she already recognizes her parents."

Walter set down the bottle and bundled Annie in layers of blankets. The weather hasn't quite warmed up yet. "That I believe. She wouldn't let anyone else touch her if Alucard or Integra is in the room, even if she can't see either of them."

Seras gazed at the baby lovingly. The Hellsing house has always been a cold fortress, but now, with her here, everything seemed so warm and bright. "She's so precious."

"That she is," said Walter. "That she is." The baby wriggled and started to cry. "Why don't you come out, Alucard? She already knows you're here."

Seras stood aside as her master emerged from the shadows. He was wearing a simple attire, a white dress shirt, black slacks, and his usual gloves. Shortly after Annie's arrival he took to dressing more simply, comfortably. She wasn't sure whether it was because he wanted to be more comfortable while he took care of his daughter or because she had spit up on his coat one time too many.

"You ought to know you can't hide from her," Walter said with a wink and handed the baby to her father. Seeing her master holding a child was still a strange sight to Seras. He was different when she was in his arms. His eyes were softer and he actually smiled instead of smirked, which she thought she would never get used to.

The baby stopped fussing as soon as Alucard got a good hold on her. He stroke her hair, which was as dark as his own.

"She's spoiled rotten."

"Only because you're there at her every beck and call." Seras knew what was coming next. "But you should be used to it. She's shaping up to take over for her mother, after all."

Alucard gave the butler a glare, which would have made a lot more of an impact if he didn't have a gurgling baby in his arms. He started to made a snarky comeback when a image filled his head, followed by a particular smell.

Both Walter and Seras had picked it up also, and both took a step back.

"Walter…"

"Oh, no no no," said the butler, heading for the door with the milk bottle. "You can't pawn it off on me every single time. It's been four months, Alucard. About time you did your fatherly duty."

"I do!" Alucard said desperately. Annie writhed. "I take care of her whenever Integra wants, feed her at all hours of the night…"

Walter was already gone.

"Seras."

Seras pretended not to hear. She looked at the door, mumbled something about weapons duty, and slipped out, leaving her master alone. She felt a little guilty, sure, but he had single-handedly fought some of the biggest wars in history. He can handle changing a diaper.

Right?

oOo

Alucard loved his daughter.

It was a strange thing to say and even stranger for him to admit, but it was the truth. After five hundred years of living in darkness and fighting war after war, she was a breath of fresh air even if he no longer breathed like humans. Just being near her made time stop, looking in those blue eyes that duplicated her mother's exactly. She was perfect and lovely in every way, more precious and valuable than all the jewels in the world and all the power he once desired. He couldn't believe she came out of him.

Well, he could, he just rather not think about that part.

An announcement was made after her birth: the heir of Hellsing had been born. Integra stayed out of the public eye, using recovery from the ordeal as an excuse, when really taking the chance to catch up on work and, more often than not, just sit and admire the baby. She was happier, something else that brightened Alucard's world considerably. In all the time he'd known her she had never been this happy. Like him, she had learned to smile.

Walter had fixed up Integra's old nursery, which had fallen to shambles and dust from disuse before. Now it's draped in colors of soft lavender, with a mobile hanging over the old crib, where her daughter now slept.

Annie whined, bringing Alucard back to the present. He looked at the baby and scratched his head, then held her tight and carried her through the walls of several rooms, into Integra's office.

She was busy at work when he entered with the baby.

"Did you need something, Alucard?" she asked without looking up. Some things never changed, but her tone was softer nowadays, and she smoked a lot less.

He held Annie out to her. "No," he said. "Nothing at all, but your daughter wanted to visit her mother."

Integra looked up as if to scold him to disturbing her, but her face softened as the baby babbled at her. She leaned over and kissed Annie on the cheek. Alucard grinned. He truly did love getting away with things using the baby.

She turned back to her work. "I'm not changing her diaper."

His face fell. "But Integra…"

"I'm busy," she said, ignoring his pleading gaze. "You're supposed to take care of her while I work, remember?"

He sighed. "Are you going to make me beg, master?"

"It would be entertaining, though it would do no good. Didn't Walter make us all agree to some degree of diaper duty at one point?"

"The police girl has been doing mine."

"Then it's about time to got some practice." Integra kissed the baby again. "Tell daddy to change your diaper, Annie."

As if understanding her, Annie began to cry, louder by the second until she was howling at the top of her lungs. Alucard wondered exactly how much of his sneakiness she had inherited. Rocking her from side to side, he left Integra's office.

There was a changing table and several bags of diapers in the nursery, although their functionalities were beyond Alucard. It had been centuries since he's touched a baby, much less take care of one. Feeding was easy enough to learn, and it took a few tries to figure out how to hold her the right way, but he had avoided diapers at all cost until this moment.

He laid the baby on the changing table, opened a bag of diapers, and pulled one out. None of this made any sense to him. The last time he was near a baby, women were still not allowed to wear pants.

After five minutes, he finally managed to wrestle the old diaper off, getting bits of glue, tape, and other things on his hands. Anessa giggled as he swore in several languages and wiped off his fingers. He was _almost_ sure she didn't understand him.

Another ten minutes passed as he tried to lay out the new diaper, tore it in the process, and had to get a new one. This one was stubborn also, but he was more careful. Wrinkling his nose, he cleaned Annie off, laid her on the new diaper, and somehow got it to stay using the sticky things on its sides.

Annie clapped, as if congratulating him. He smiled and picked her up.

Seras and Walter were peeking in at the door, curious. He smirked at them. "No confidence at all," he said. "You really think I can't handle a diaper?"

Walter adjusted his glasses. "Yes, you sure showed us," he said. Seras was looking rather apprehensive. Alucard pushed her aside and walked out of the nursery with his daughter. Seras stared after him, then turned to Walter.

"Should we tell him it's on backwards?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: well, I got lots to celebrate, starting with the highest review count on the first chapter of a work-in-progress ever. Welcome backs to fans of the first story, and "hi"s to the shy people who didn't review the last one but are kindly giving reviews to this one.

This story will be longer than The Way to an Heir. It originally wasn't supposed to be, but right now it's over ten chapters and growing. No complaints I trust? This story was also very much written in the context of "this is how _I_ wanted Hellsing to turn out". Slight oocness like in the last one? Possibly. Just keep in mind that being parents change people.

If you read this chapter closely, it actually foreshadows most of the upcoming issues in the future chapters. I'm not sure how obviously though. Also, if you don't know what Annie looks like after this chapter, ask someone who's read Dawn to explain it to you.

And now… let's fast forward a couple of months.

Chapter 2

Integra attended her first gathering of the Convention since ending her "maternity leave". Upon entering the meeting hall, the men regarded her with a sort of solemn curiosity that she truly did not care for.

"Welcome back, Integra," said Irons. "And belated congratulations on the heir of Hellsing."

"Thank you," she replied politely. "Let's get down to business."

The meeting went as it usually did, mostly. It was boring and tedious, with rehashing of many old issues. Although it didn't take long for her to notice that something was wrong. There was an air of secrecy about the men. They were walking on eggshells around her, almost speaking in code.

"How are you adjusting to motherhood, Integra?"

She looked up at the question, unsure who had asked. All the men were looking at her, as if unusually interested in her response.

"It's been difficult," she said. "But I'm managing."

"There have been some questions as to your ability to continue serving…"

"From whom?" she snapped.

There were a few nervous coughs. "No one is questioning your capability and sense of duty," said Irons hesitantly. "It's just that, considering your responsibilities as a new mother, and a single one at that…" He avoided Integra's red hot glare. "We thought it may be wise for you to take a more extended leave."

Her hands tightened into fists. "Is that so?" she asked. "And why is that? Is the Convention so old fashioned that they are unable to comprehend a woman fulfilling both the role of mother and director?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, Integra."

"Then do tell me the right way to take it."

Sir Wells chided in. "We're only thinking of you," he said. "Having a child is no small feat, especially in your case, grooming one to take over for you. The war is over now and we are in an era of peace. If you wish to, we thought you may appreciate the chance to concentrate on more important things."

"If you are implying that I would place anything above God and duty…"

"We are not implying…"

"Then why say it at all?" She groped her pocket for a cigar, realized she had given it up, and bit her lip in frustration.

"We're just… ow!"

Sir Irons leapt up from his seat. The other rose in alarm as he stepped back and looked under the table. Integra remained seated and drummed her fingers on the table. She already knew what had happened.

"Integra…!"

"Yes?"

"I-I think…"

A small figure half-crawled, half-stumbled out from under the table. Anessa turned and gave her mother a grin that eerily resembled her father. At eleven months, walking was a new thing for her, but that didn't keep her from trying. She stumbled again and kept herself upright by gripping the nearest chair.

"I think your daughter just bit me!" Irons exclaimed. The dark-haired baby looked up at him and Integra could already tell: she wasn't sorry in the least.

"Is that so?" She found herself smiling as Annie fell heavily onto her bottom after another failed attempt to walk more than ten steps. "My apologies. She's rather… expressive at times."

"Did you know she was here?"

"Not in the least. She has a mind of her own."

Irons let out a exasperated sigh. "If you could, Integra, remove her from the room so we can go on."

She sneered. "Is it because she's more vocal about her opinions than I am?" No one replied, but there were a lot of downcast eyes as she made a gesture to the shadows. "Alucard, if you please."

A few shocked faces looked up as her servant appeared through the far wall. The baby gurgled and pulled herself up to her feet again. Wells looked from the vampires to Integra.

"You… allow your servant to handle the child?"

There was a tremor in the room that only Integra felt. It was anger, radiating heatedly from Alucard. Perhaps Annie felt it, too. She was regarding Wells with large, confused eyes.

"Why not?" she asked. "Alucard is perfectly responsible and fully capable of taking care of her. I can think of no one more fitting."

"But to allow such a young child in the care of a vampire," said Irons as if Alucard was not in the room. "Are you sure it's wise?"

"Please, Sir Irons," said Integra coldly. "I have already had my sense of duty and skills questioned today. I think I could do without having my parenting skills questioned as well."

Annie had gotten to her feet and was teetering towards Alucard, a wide grin on her face. It was quite obvious that she was very used to his presence, even when it's unannounced from the shadows like a storybook boogieman. He extended his arms and she fell into them, uttering two perfectly clear sounds.

"Da-da."

There were a few audible gasps from the table.

"You let her acknowledge him as her father?" someone asked.

All eyes were on Integra. She looked up and saw Alucard watching her as well, Annie held snuggly against his chest. He was waiting for her to answer, she knew. They had never talked about how to explain Annie's parentage. There was sadness in his eyes, but she read the message clearly.

_You don't have to tell them if you don't wish to_.

"I do," she said out loud. A few eyebrows raised. "And why not? There is no one else more fitting that him, the one who serves Hellsing faithfully and without question."

Irons cleared his throat. "You don't see any possible future… repercussions to this?"

"As far as I am concerned," Integra said firmly, "my daughter has two fitting parents. Now I believe we have more pressing issues to discuss."

oOo

Alucard was waiting in her office after the meeting broke up. She went to him and was met with a light kiss on the lips.

"The gall of them," she said. "Questioning me on how to raise my child."

He watched her sit behind her desk. Motherhood hadn't taken the air of authority from her. Just the opposite, it seemed to have made her all the more powerful and determined.

"They know nothing," said Alucard. "I doubt any of those men were ever in the same room as their children without a wet nurse present."

Integra opened her desk drawer and pulled out a cigar. Alucard plucked it out of her hand before it could reach her lips.

"Do you remember what we said about smoking after Anessa was born, Integra?"

She sighed. "I can't do it. Not forever."

"You give yourself so little credit."

She slumped back in her chair. "Have I become weaker, Alucard?"

"Not at all. If anything you are stronger than you've ever been."

Integra shook her head. "I don't feel that way. I'm so confused. Maybe they're right. Being a mother is weakening me to my duty."

He took her hand. "Are you even listening to yourself?" he asked her. "You're the same woman you've always been. They're just afraid of you. They always have. They fear that now that you have an heir, they no can no longer hope to gain control of Hellsing by pushing their sons or nephews on you."

She gave him a tired smile. "You're turning soft, too. Who would've thought the No-Life King would make such a doting father?"

"Speaking of which," he said. "I do appreciate you not outright denying my parentage to her, though I suppose I would have understood if you did."

Gloom fell over Integra's face. "What are we going to do?" she asked. "In the future, what do we tell those who ask about her family? She must know that she is different. It can't be hidden forever. She's barely a year old and already sneaking in and out of shadows like a cat. It was lucky that no one looked under the table before the meeting to see that she was not there."

"It won't make a difference."

"How do you figure?"

Leaning forward, Alucard kissed her forehead. "Because she will be smart and strong like her mother. She will figure these things out on her own, learn to manage her powers, and make a fine leader one day. When she begins to carry out her duty, it won't matter how she does it because no one will be able to do as well as she."

"You're very confident."

"Shouldn't I be?"

Integra nodded. "I guess you have every right. But it still doesn't answer the question of how to explain the source of her powers. There will be rumors for sure. Plus what of her descent? And your place as her father?"

"Say exactly what you said to the Convention."

Their eyes met. "Are you sure about that? It would be as good as denying that you had anything to do with her making."

"It doesn't matter," he told her. "When the time is right, we'll find a way."

oOo

Anessa Hellsing was rather unfamiliar with the concept of a "normal" childhood.

She did not have the privilege of spending Sunday afternoons with her father in the park, nor the luxury of playing tea party with her mother. Other children, on the rare occasions that there were any around, always talked about things that she did not care for or did not understand. Instead of a cozy little family home, she lived in an enormous mansion with its personal army, long empty halls, and an air of impenetrability.

Still, she was healthy and happy. She had other things that normal children did not have. The superhuman ability to learn, for instance, just by being near a person and picking up images from their mind. She spoke with abnormal articulacy and viewed the world with a keen eye.

People often told her she looked like her mother. They have the exact same eyes, blue and deep as the ocean. Her mother, from her earliest memory, was a solemn woman who always seemed to have very heavy things weighing down her mind and heart, though she was never too busy to spare a smile for her daughter. Anessa knew at a very young age the things people said about her mother, that she's cold and distant, calculating and serious. At first she couldn't understand. After all, her mother was always so warm and kind to her.

And to her father.

No one ever said she looked like her father, although she always fancied herself, with her black hair and broad smile, a spitting image of him. As far as she could remember, he had always been there, no matter the time of day or night. Whenever she needed him, he came to her without hesitation.

But he did not venture out as her mother did, she noticed. Whenever there was somewhere to go, she always went with her mother. When her father did come, he would linger behind them, as if trying to appear inconspicuous. On more than one occasion in her toddler years she was hurt and confused as he refused to come at her call when they were in public. At three years old, she couldn't understand why.

Once, after returning from an outing, she approached him and asked, "are you ashamed of me, daddy?"

He had held her, and kissed her face, and told her that it's not her, that it's his fault he can't be near when she needs him. Then he said that he hopes when she's older she'll understand and forgive him for it. At the time she thought she would never understand, but she did catch the look he exchanged with her mother. There was sadness in it. She felt it.

She had an unusual connection with her father. She knew he loved her mother more than anything in the world.

There were other people in her life, too. Having no friends of her own age she found companionship in those around her. There was Walter, old and wise, who took care of her, read her books, and fixed her snacks. There was the bubbly Miss Seras, who played with her, brought her pretty things, and told her jokes. And "Father Alex", who gave her lessons on math, literature, sciences, and bible on Sundays.

They were her family, all of them together. There was also another member whom she had never met but was always told of. There was a picture of him on the wall of her mother's officer. Her grandfather.

On her fourth birthday her mother had carried her into the office and directed her attention to the painting.

"Can grandpa see us, mama?" she had asked.

"What do you think?" her mother answered. "Do you think he can see us through the painting?"

"Father Alex said everyone with a pure soul goes to heaven." She wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. "Will I go to heaven, mama? Is grandpa in heaven?"

Her mother never did give her a direct answer to that question. Somewhere down the road, when she's older, Anessa would realize what a complicated question that was. But on that day her mother, her beautiful, solemn mother, simply kissed her cheek.

"You will go wherever you want."

That was also the day Walter pulled her into a bathroom, berating her for making such a mess of her hair, which was dark as the night and unreasonably long by that point. Then he bent her over the sink, washed it, and cut it with a pair of scissors.

Her father had walked in as Walter stepped back with a satisfied nod.

"What have you done to my daughter, Walter?" her father had asked.

"I trimmed her hair," replied the old butler. "I couldn't allow the next heir of Hellsing to run around with a crow's nest on her head."

"Well, yes. But did you have to do it like that?" Her father ran a hand over her head as she admired herself in the mirror. Personally, she rather liked it.

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's weird."

"No it's not." Walter tidied up the bathroom. "She looks just like you did in the 40's."

She never did find out what they were talking about, but from then on she insisted that her hair be kept long and neatly trimmed, with bangs hanging over her large eyes.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize there are a lot of questions regarding technicality raised about this story. It was not until I got fairly into it that I saw how very, very complicated this issue is, which is why this story is turning out to be much longer than expected. The best I can say is, I tried to cover everything, but there are bound to be things I can't address. Please make of those things what you will.

So far it seems to be this way: Anessa is growing up like a human, although as the story goes she starts to develop vampiric abilities. If you read The Way to an Heir, you probably remember Alucard not being able to phase through walls while Annie was still in his belly. She didn't have those abilities at that point, but she's learning. Stuff will happen, trust me.

At the end of the last chapter, she was four. In this chapter, she is almost five. I'm skipping ahead fairly fast until she's about eleven, which is when the interesting/weird/emotional stuff starts happening. As far as her learning of her true heritage… be patient.

Someone said something about I should draw pictures of girlycard and post them. I've actually done that a while ago. They're on my homepage. There's a pic labled "Gothic Lolicard", which I think is actually what Anessa would look like down the road.

Also, I read this little book called Great Lies to Tell Kids, one of which was "clowns melt at 85 degrees".

So… who remembers Robert and Tricia?

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 3

Alexander Anderson set down his book as the resident princess walked into the library. She was wearing an unusually frilly dress that he guessed Seras Victoria must have put on her, all the while "aww"ing over her like she was a porcelain doll. Neither Alucard nor Integra cared for such things and Anessa seemed to have inherited that trait. There was already a large grass stain on the dress's hem.

"What can I do for you, little lady?" he asked as she went straight to him and took his hand. She had quite a grip for a girl hardly five.

"Let's go outside, Father Alex," she said, her tone every bit as firm as her mother's when she gave orders.

"Alright," he said, allowing her to drag him to the front of the manor. He had to lean down significantly to accommodate for her small size. There was mischief written all over her face.

Once outside, she let go of his hand, ran behind him, and pushed him onto a spot of sunlight on the porch. "Stand right there," she said, and disappeared into the mansion, appearing a moment later with a clown doll clutched in her hands. She dropped the doll on to the ground by Anderson's feet.

"What are we doing?" he asked her.

Instead of answering, Annie stepped back into the shadows and simply watched him, standing there with the doll by his feet. Though sunlight never harmed her, she seemed to have a mild distain for it just on instinct.

"What are we doing?" he asked her again.

She scratched her head. "Is it eighty-five degrees, Father Alex?"

He chuckled. "Well, yes. I'd say it's at least a hundred out here."

"Does it have to be exactly eight-five?"

"What does?"

She walked out of the shadows and picked up her doll. "Daddy said Catholics and clowns melt at eighty-five degrees."

Anderson thought about laughing, decided that may upset the little lady, and coughed instead. "Well," he said slowly. "You see, I have left the church, so I am not a full Catholic anymore."

"Oh," she said, looking up at him in all seriousness. "At what temperature do you melt now?"

"Two hundred and ninety-five."

"O.K.," she said.

"You don't really want me to melt, do you?"

"I just wanted to see you melt a little." Annie picked up her clown doll. "How come he didn't melt?"

"You need a real clown." Usually he wasn't for fibbing to children, but after spending three hours last week trying to explain that burying bibles in the garden _didn't_ make priests grow out of the soil, he had decided it was easier to go along with whatever tall tale the vampire made up to amuse his daughter.

"Why don't we go inside?" Annie nodded with disappointment on her face. "Have you finished reading your book?"

She perked up. "Yes I did!" she exclaimed proudly. "Mommy said it makes me smarter to read that book."

He smiled down at her. "Do you feel smarter?"

She shook her head in a wide arc. "I don't know. But I bet someone else will tell me if I'm smarter. Daddy said smart people glow green except they can't see it themselves so other people have to tell them if they're smart."

This time Anderson didn't laugh. He watched Annie run up and down the halls of the mansion, brimming with endless energy. She was special in so many ways that she wasn't even aware of, so smart yet too young to know how hard life can be, especially for one with a birth as noble as her own. But that is just as well. Youth was a privilege.

"Mommy and Daddy are taking me to see the Queen," she told him later as they sat in the library. "I bet she'll think I'm smart because I read my book."

"I'm sure she will," he agreed. "Have you met the Queen before?"

"Nuh-uh. But Mommy said she is very kind and wise, and that she's been waiting to take me to meet her."

The first introduction of the heir to the Queen. Anderson guessed Integra must have been about this age when she was first introduce to the elite world. Did anyone other than the few inside this house knew of Anessa's true origin? He was certain the answer would've been "no".

"Are you nervous?" he asked her.

"Nope," she said with her father's utmost confidence.

He saw Integra before Annie did and waved for her to come in. With a delighted squeal the girl got to her feet and ran to her mother, wrapping her arms around Integra's legs. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and instructed her to wash up for dinner. Anderson watched the girl run out of the library.

"She runs everywhere," he said after Annie was out of sight. "I don't remember ever having seen her walk."

Integra nodded. She was wearing a mother's smile.

"You are taking her to the Queen at last."

"I am," she said. "I feel she's ready. It's about time for the others to see that Hellsing has a capable heir."

"And what of her father?"

"Alucard has maintained on telling others that he is a father figure to her and nothing more."

"I must say I admire the sacrifices he makes for her." Anderson glanced at Integra. "For both of you."

She nodded grimly. "I know. Trust me, I wish I could do more for him. But some things are out of my control."

It was a sore subject, Anderson knew, and he did not pursue it. Ever since the arrival of their daughter, the boundaries between master and servant have been tested, both wanting more and both having to put duty above all else. To have a loving family was a joyous thing under normal circumstances. To have to hide it was painful.

"She finished her book," he said, changing the subject.

"Did she? Seems we underestimated her again."

"She truly doesn't know how smart she is, does she?"

"Next time I'll give her something harder than _Dracula_."

oOo

Alucard watched his fledgling dress his daughter in yet another dress too poofy for his taste. The little girl was writhing under Seras' grasp, pulling at the laces and frills and complaining that everything was itchy.

"How come I have to wear this, Miss Seras?" she asked as Seras brushed her hair. "It's so uncomfortable!"

Smiling, Seras slipped a matching bracelet over her wrist. "Because you should look nice for the Queen."

"Is the Queen going to look nice, too?"

"Of course not," Alucard cut in. "By etiquette the Queen must show up wearing nothing but bubble wrap."

Annie's face lit up. Seras scowled. "You shouldn't keep telling her these things, master. She's going to walk up to the Queen and ask why she's not wearing bubble wrap."

"Let her. It would add some entertainment to the boring gathering."

"Mommy said there's going to be dancing," said Annie. "Will you dance with me, Daddy?"

The thought had occurred to Alucard more than once. Could he really dance with her under the eyes of all the watchful socialites? Normally he didn't give a damn what those stuffed-shirts thought, but for Integra's sake, for the sake of Hellsing, he still had a certain amount of pretense to keep up.

Outside of this mansion, he was _not_ her father.

"We'll see," he said.

Seras put a layer of peach lip gloss on Annie's lips. She promptly licked it off. Seras put on another layer, which disappeared under the girl's tongue once again. The process repeated about six times before she gave up with a sigh. She turned the girl around and lifted her to the bathroom mirror.

"All done. What do you think?"

"The dress is itchy."

"What about the other stuff?"

Annie gave her a thumbs-up. "Perfect," she said. "Put me down. I'm gonna go show Mommy."

With that she ran out of the bathroom. Alucard watched her go. He knew Seras was looking at him but did not face her. "Don't even start, police girl."

"They should all know you're her father, master. You did so much for her."

"That's out of the question," he snapped. "If anyone outside here were to learn that the next heir of Hellsing has the blood of a vampire in her veins, it could destroy the agency's reputation. Think of the rumors that would start, the criticisms that would be hurled her way. Hellsing cannot afford to be weakened by hearsay."

"They will notice she'll different. They'll be able to guess."

"Then let them guess."

There was no room for argument. Seras fell silent for a moment.

"Master…"

"What?"

"Is it true that she looks just like you did fifty years ago?"

oOo

Alucard hated these social gatherings.

It's been years since he'd attended one. Integra had managed to find an excuse not to attend any ever since Anessa's birth, which meant he didn't have to serve as her escort. But now that he was here, he realized he had forgotten how incessantly dull it was, how nauseous the scent of expensive perfume, and how little interest he had in making any sort of pretense at being pleasant.

Annie was there, at least, but her presence in a way made things harder. He couldn't be near her, couldn't hold her hand and act like a father should. Instead, he lingered behind Integra as she led their daughter about the room, acting the part of the obedient servant and pretended to have little interest in the child's affairs. When she turned to glance at him, he avoided her gaze not without some effort.

She was dazzling indeed, her beauty ever overshadowing that of her mother. Her smile was genuine and bright, and her boldness and wit had no match. The ladies of the court fawned over her, pinching her cheeks and telling her how pretty she was. Their saccharine praises grated on Alucard's nerves, although he enjoyed their expression of unease as his daughter continuously babbled about how she just read a very good book about vampires.

There were men, too. Many of them, in fact. One particular pair approached Integra and Anessa. They seemed familiar for reasons Alucard couldn't quite grasp. The man was in his thirties, handsome in a sly sort of way, and was completely ignoring his wife or girlfriend as he spoke to Integra. The woman was giving the Hellsing director a murderous glare.

Several moments later Integra excused herself from the couple and led Anessa to the corner will Alucard had occupied himself. She sighed and signaled the nearest waiter for a drink.

"Shall I assume the conversation was less than interesting?"

Integra shook her head as Anessa, brimming with energy, pawed at her father. "That was Robert and Tricia Conningwell. I may have mentioned them in passing."

A flicker of memory can to him, followed by the sting of anger. "The insect who made a pass at you in front of his fiancé?"

"They're married now." Integra downed her drink in one gulp. That man seemed to have that effect on her. "Got a kid, about Annie's age."

"She still seems less than impressed by you."

"Because her husband still has the habit of holding extended conversations with my breasts."

Alucard smiled. "Can you blame him?" He reached out to touch her face, but suddenly realized where they were. He took the empty glass from her hand instead. The band had started to play a quick, jazzy melody. Annie took his hand with both of hers.

"Dance with me, daddy!" she exclaimed, loud enough for half the ballroom to hear.

Heads turned all around them. Alucard hated that he could sense their stare of shock and curiosity on them. They were studying him, him and this little girl who they must have thought was much too beautiful and human to have any relation with him. Were they wondering why Sir Hellsing even allow her daughter near her heathen servant? Much less call him father?

Annie was looking up at him with wide eyes and pouted lips. "No, Annie," he said, struggling with each word. "I don't think…"

"Please, daddy!" she whined. If there was anyone in the ballroom not looking before, now they were. He started to give her a more stern protest.

"Dance with her."

He looked up at Integra. She gazed at him evenly. "It's an order," she said. "Dance with her."

He allowed himself to smile just a bit and bowed slightly. "Yes, my master."

He led his daughter to the dance floor. Her smile lit it up like the star atop a Christmas tree. He took her hands and swung her around the floor. For a five-year-old, she was surprisingly graceful, and somehow managed to match the beat of the music in her own bubbly, half-stumbling way. When her spun her, she would go one circle to many and nearly fall from dizziness. Sometimes she reached her arms up and he would pick her up spin her around.

Integra was watching, he knew. She was watching him dance with their daughter with bliss on her face. The rest of the room was also watching, but they didn't matter. He felt like they were performing, the pair of them, performing only for the woman he loved.

Then the band switched to a slow tune and he lifter Annie onto his feet. She wrapped her arms around him as they swayed to the music. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and looked toward Integra.

There were two men standing next to her.

He started a bit, but held on tight to Annie and kept dancing. The two men were speaking to her now. One of them was Robert Conningwell, the other appeared to be his chum of a sort. Conningwell made a brief introduction and left his friend alone with Integra. Alucard straightened a bit and tuned his senses to their conversation.

"The famed Sir Integra Hellsing," he heard the man said. "Robert here has told me so much about you. And he's right – all the hearsay truly does not do justice to your beauty. Might I say, you have the most stunning eyes I've ever seen."

"Did Mr. Conningwell tell you of my eyes?" replied Integra. "How unexpected. I never thought that was the pair he was interested in."

Alucard stifled a chortle. Annie looked up at him. "What did mommy mean, daddy?"

_She could hear them_. Or perhaps she was hearing them through his own mind. Alucard didn't know. "Nothing," he said quickly.

"Your daughter is lovely," said the man.

"Thank you," replied Integra in a tone that indicated she did not desire any further conversation.

"Is it difficult raising her without a father?"

"She has a father. He is dancing with her right now."

The man chuckled awkwardly. "It is very nice, I think, that you allow your servant to bond with her such," he said patronizingly. "But don't you think she would benefit from a more… human father figure?"

Integra shrugged. "I don't see how," she said flatly.

"There are men of stature who could offer her much later on in life." He reached out and touched her arm. Integra stepped back. "And a woman such as yourself shouldn't spend your prime alone in all your glory. It's simply a crime against nature."

So having failed to bag the director of Hellsing for herself, Conningwell had brought his friend to make an attempt at cavorting with her. Alucard fought the urge to thrash them both on the spot.

"Whatever it is you are hinting, sir," he heard Integra say, "I do not need. My daughter has fine parents and I am not so desperate for companionship that I must seek it from you. You can tell the same to Mr. Conningwell."

Alucard felt Annie squeeze his hand. "Mommy's mad," she whispered as if imparting a secret. "Why is mommy mad, daddy?"

He stroke her head. "Because the man over there said something wrong."

"Why did he say I don't have a daddy? Can't he see you?"

Alucard didn't have time to answer, thankfully. Integra had crossed the dance floor. She laid a hand on Annie's shoulder and pulled her aside gently.

"That's enough, dear," she said. "It's mommy's turn."

She shooed their giggling daughter aside and laid her hand on his shoulder. He took her other hand and they waltzed. Despite both not having danced in many years, they managed to earn the attention of the ballroom, gliding effortlessly in each other's arms.

"Are you sure about this, master?" he whispered in her ear. "Telling that man that I was her father was risky enough."

"He didn't believe me," she replied as he dipped her. "That's what they all think, that this is some big joke, me letting you act as the father."

"In a way it's convenient."

"It's idiotic is what it is." He spun her. "Let them think what they wish."

"They seem to think that, without a man in the picture, you are still up for marriage proposals, and Annie is the perfect excuse."

"They think they can still get Hellsing, and me by pretending to care about my daughter." She pulled him close. "But they're fools. I am not theirs to win. Tonight I only dance with my daughter's father."

The song ended but he didn't want to let her go. He held her a moment longer, as long as he could without rousing suspicion. At last she left his side to tend to Annie, who by this time had somehow cornered Conningwell's friend and was bombarding him questions about vampires.

The Queen made her appearance later in the evening. She had grown weaker physically with age, but her eyes were still bright with wisdom. Time had washed away none of her stateliness as she took her seat at the throne and beckoned to Integra.

Alucard followed three steps behind as Integra led Annie to the Queen.

"Come forward, child." Annie stepped forward and gave her perfect curtsey. The Queen smiled and lifted her chin to study her face. "The heir of Hellsing. She certainly has your courage in her eyes, Integra."

Integra bowed. "Thank you, your majesty."

The Queen turned to the girl. "What's your name, dear?"

"Anessa Hellsing," replied Annie proudly. "I'm four. My mommy said I should always wear my family name like a badge of honor."

"That you should. There is much to learn in your life, Anessa. Are you prepared?"

"I learn what I can, your majesty. I haven't found something I can't learn." She turned to her parents for approval. For a moment Alucard was afraid she'd let something slip about their relationship, but thankfully she said no more.

He kept silent as Integra conversed with the Queen. When at last it concluded, he moved to follow them back to the crowd.

"Alucard?"

He paused and turned to face the Queen. "Yes, your majesty?"

"Your daughter is beautiful."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It occurs to me that I should explain some of the things I was thinking of while writing this story. The general gist of it is, this story will eventually turn into how _I_ want Hellsing to turn out. If that doesn't make sense now, it will start to toward the latter parts of the story.

The dramatic turn begins here, as Annie grows older and starts to question why her father isn't at her side most of the time, and Alucard begins to feel saddened by the fact that he and Integra can't act like a normal couple and be a normal family. Tension's beginning to run high in the Hellsing house.

Also, whoever suggested the name Seth in the last story… I'm using it for a somewhat major character. Let me know if that's a problem. Plus I really do apologize if anyone emailed me and I haven't replied. I'm very busy on an internship and am currently not doing much FFN stuff besides updating unfinished stories. I'll be more active starting in mid-August, and may even start taking challenges. Bear with me please.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 4

"What is the most important thing to remember about vampires, Anessa?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, perhaps in an unconscious attempt to appear more adult. Indeed, though she was barely nine, her language and posture often betrayed a mind that was far more advanced in age than her body.

"That they're powerful," she said. "Vampires hunger for power, they look down on humans in general. They have superhuman reflexes and strength, and will not hesitate to use it."

Anderson nodded in satisfaction. He had thought personally that it was much too early to begin educating the child in true vampirism, but she was full of surprises. He leaned forward in his chair. Anessa did the same on her stool.

"How many types of vampires can you think off, off the top of your head?"

"Well," she said thoughtfully, counting off her fingers. "The boundaries that divide them are not necessarily clear, right?"

"That is correct."

"There's the man-made type, created during the last war by a vampire production program, known as FREAKS, and are the lowest on the ladder. There's the ones that are created when vampires bite a virgin, and those are divided into different levels based on their abilities, ranging from A to D."

"Also correct."

"And the Nosferatu, the True Undead, which possesses powers like no other."

Anderson nodded. "The king of vampires, one who is stronger than the rest."

"Is he real?"

The priest paused. "Of course. All vampires are real. Your family is one that hunts them throughout history. You know that, lass."

Anessa held up one finger. "But no one has ever gone against a Nosferatu, right? Is there only one? What about the others?"

"As far as your family records show, there had been only one." Anderson chose his words carefully.

"What happened to him?"

"He was defeated by your ancestor, Abraham Van Hellsing."

For a moment he worried the girl would ask more questions, but Anessa seemed satisfied with his answer. "I've never seen a vampire," she said. "Will I see a vampire soon?"

"Most likely you will see many in your lifetime."

"They seem scary."

"Do they frighten you?"

She shook her head. "No. Dad always said that a monster can only be killed by a human. I am a human, so why should I be afraid of monsters?"

The answer to that question was loaded, and Anderson decided to smile instead of give it. "No reason at all," he said softly.

Anessa stood and went to the library's window. She gazed outside at the bright day, her long hair falling over her shoulders like a waterfall of charcoal. "Where does my Dad go at night, Father Alex?"

Anderson tried to hide his surprise and found it harder to do than he expected. "Why do you ask, lass?"

She shrugged. Suddenly, in the waning evening light, she seemed much older, and from a certain angle very much like her mother. "I thought I should know. I know he goes out sometimes, but I don't know where he goes. When he comes back he's always a little… different."

"Have you thought about asking him?"

"He doesn't want to tell me. He doesn't think it's the right time. Whenever he comes back at night he won't let me come near him."

She's never asked, Anderson realized. Anessa has always known her father on more levels than one. Their mental link was strong. Perhaps that contributed partly to her advancement in intelligence and wisdom. Whatever Alucard thought, she always knew one step ahead, even though she herself may not understand why. Anything she said of him was no doubt a reflection of his own thought.

"You don't think it's the right time either," she went on matter-of-factly. "I can tell. But I really want to know. I know what Mom does. She runs the agency and commands the troops and meets with those men who come here and talk to her behind closed doors. But Dad… I feel like he doesn't want me to know anything about him."

Anderson sighed. "He had his reasons."

"It's because he's ashamed of me," said the girl in a tone much too even. "I know that because he doesn't want anyone to know I'm his daughter."

"You know that's not true."

"I think it is." She turned way but Anderson saw that she was biting her lip. "I can't tell anyone he's my Dad, and when we go out I can't talk to him or hold his hand. When I ask him a question it's never the right time."

Anderson stood and went to her. She turned her face to the window, away from him, but couldn't hide the small sob that escaped her throat. He put his arms around her and held her close. Her tears soaked into his collar.

"He loves you more than life itself, Annie," he told her, wiping her cheeks dry.

"Then why doesn't he want me?" she asked through wet eyes.

He could only hold her and let her cry, all the while very aware of the red eyes watching from the shadows. Though lacking in their powers of telepathy, he was much too sensitive to the pain of both father and daughter. Finally, after she calmed, he carried her to her room.

There was too much to tell her, too much that she needed to know in time. But they all knew, and all agreed, that there were simply some things not to be told to an eight-year-old.

oOo

Integra fought the urge to roll her eyes and forced herself to smile at the two standing before her. She felt Walter tap her on the back gently from behind, a reminder for her to behave and kindle her temper.

"Mr. and Mrs. Conningwell," she said politely. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tricia fiddled with her hair, either not hearing or pretending not to. Robert Conningwell smiled broadly. Between them stood a boy about eight or nine, his hair sleeked back with oil to imitate his father's.

"We were in the neighborhood," said Conningwell, putting a hand on his son's head, "and thought we could drop by and make better acquaintances. I _am_ to succeed my father's seat on the Convention of Twelve soon, you know."

Integra gritted her teeth in impatience. At thirty-five she had already served her position in the Convention for over two decades, and found it rather irritating that this ignorant man would try to impress her with such a notion.

Walter served them tea. Tricia waved away the pastries he offered, commenting off-handedly that she must watch her figure and eyeing Integra's masculine getup with disapproval. Integra ignored her pointedly.

"Even if not," Conningwell continued, "our Seth is rather eager to make new friends. God knows there are few enough families that could match up to the stature of… well, us. Meeting kids of similar age and status is difficult. I'm sure he and your lovely daughter would get along famously."

"Anessa is very busy with her lessons," Integra said coldly.

"It never hurts for kids to have companions of their own age. And who knows, maybe in the future they can develop a… closer relationship."

Standing to one side, Walter feared that if Integra gripped her teacup any tighter, it may shatter. Seems the men of the court have figured out another way into Hellsing.

"She's a bit old for play dates."

"You can't keep your daughter cooped up forever, Integ…"

"Sir Hellsing."

"…Sir Hellsing. She needs friends her own age."

Integra set down her cup. "Walter," she said. "If you could, please fetch the police girl." The butler raised an eyebrow, but did not ask any questions. He turned and left the room. "Perhaps you are right, Mr. Conningwell. I will consider it. Maybe your son could come to the manor once in a while. I'm sure there are activities they can enjoy together."

Conningwell smiled in triumph. His boy looked about in curiosity. He was handsome like his father, but Integra couldn't tell right away whether they two also shared similar traits in personality.

"But you and your lovely wife must be aware of the nature of my business," she went on. Tricia looked at her briefly, as if feigning interest. "Some members of this household, who also happen to keep close company with my daughter, may not be to your son's liking."

Conningwell laughed. "Well, I don't think anyone who lives and works with you could…"

He stopped mid-sentence as Seras Victoria walked into the room. She was half-awake, her uniform was a bit wrinkled from having been put on in haste, and her hair was a mess with sleep. She yawned, baring her fangs for all to see.

"You wanted to see me, Miss Integra?"

Tricia's teacup fell onto the carpet with a soft "thump". She shot to her feet and pulled her surprised son to her side. "You… you allow those _things_ into your house?"

Seras turned to the woman, shock in her red eyes. Integra poured herself more tea calmly. "Please refrain from referring to my staff as 'thing', Mrs. Conningwell. This is Seras Victoria, the commander of Hellsing's troops. She's also served as a caretaker for my daughter in my absences."

Tricia made a sound of disgust. Conningwell stood and laid a hand on her shoulder, which she batted away. "Dear, please…"

"This is disgrace!" his wife snapped. "We are leaving, Robert. I told you it was not a good idea to bring Seth here!"

Before her husband could argue, Tricia pulled her confused son out of the room, walking in a wide arc to distance herself from Seras as much as possible. Conningwell bit Integra a quick goodbye before chasing after her.

Seras watched them go in confusion before turning to Integra. "So… can I help you with something, Miss Integra?"

Integra took a sip of her tea. "You already have."

oOo

For the first time in hundreds of years, Alucard hated the battlefield.

Though he's never enjoyed his imprisonment by Hellsing and hardly appreciated the loneliness of immortality, he had never hated confrontations before now. Blood always excited him, always gave him energy, and the sound of death and fighting was music to his ears. But now, as he raised his gun to the Medians before him, he hated it. Everything about it was wrong.

There was once a time when he thought he was doomed to be alone for all eternity, that all his powers couldn't buy him the happiness humans took for granted. When he saw Integra, he thought the barrier between them could and would never be breached, no matter how badly he desired her. Then Anessa arrived, and it all changed. For the first time since the age of ten, he was convinced there was a benevolent God.

But things weren't that simple, were they? They never were, not for a cursed one like himself.

He fired. The vampire went down and he took no satisfaction in it. The only thing on his mind were the words of his daughter, garbled through her tears.

_Why doesn't he want me?_

This he had not anticipated. He had never thought that, as he watched his daughter blossom into a young woman, that he had to pretend he had nothing to do with her upbringing. Not once did he think how he would break the news of her true heritage to her until now. She had noticed his actions to keep the distance between them. Of course she did. She was much sharper than normal children and most adults. She took notice when he pushed her away when she wanted a hug after he returned from a mission, not knowing that it was because he didn't want her to smell blood and gunpowder on his clothes. She noticed when he did not speak to her in public and never took her anywhere alone. As she grew older it became harder and harder to hide things from her without physically pushing her away.

Alucard sighed as he reloaded. It had taken a long time but he had finally figured out why he didn't oppose to Integra hiding his true nature from their daughter: he was ashamed. The things been taught to Anessa… the evils of vampires… how could he tell her what he was, or what _she_ was?

He was a monster beneath humanity.

He fired again.

He had not slept regularly in years. In order not to be absent during the day, he could only sleep whenever she was not around, and still tend to his missions at night. Though he did not require much sleep to function, it was still exhausting to only be able to rest an hour or two at a time. He had to remind himself at all times to keep the color of his eyes dark, to keep reminding the police girl to wear contacts, and to be careful using his powers around the house.

Another ghoul went down.

_It's better for you to think that I don't want you, than for you to learn what I truly am, and decide that you don't want me._

Then there was Integra.

She was wearing him out. It had taken over ten years for her to accept his love, and now, nearly another ten years later, it felt as if they were no closer to being together. In a way, it was realistic. He couldn't marry her, and she couldn't let the public know that she was involved with her vampire servant. They had a child between them but could not sleep in the same bed, greet each other with physical affection whenever there was a pair of watchful eyes around, nor walk with their arms entwined in the evening. He was tired of sneaking a kiss behind closed doors, or a quick moment alone when she wasn't between meetings. Instead of claiming his rightful place a her side, he had to stand on the sidelines as sleazy, young, socialite men continued to make passes at her.

They had never professed love to each other in so many words, partly because, as time wore on, they both knew there was no place in either of their hearts for any other. But to say it was something else. To say it meant they'd be forced to acknowledge their relationship and do something about it. That they could not do. They were too busy. Some things had to wait.

She had grown older, much too old for a woman just entering her late thirties. As the old men who worked with her came to be slowly replaced by their sons and successors, her voice grew harder to hear among the Convention. The younger men viewed her for much less than what she was – a single mother, and a prospect into gaining control of Hellsing, and nothing more.

In the mean time, their daughter was growing up. And today, he had seen her cry because of him.

The mission wrapped up around dawn. Alucard left the crew to do their cleanup work and headed back to the mansion alone. First he checked on Annie, phasing through the wall of her room silently. She was sleeping peacefully in her bed. He watched her for several minutes, the princess who did not know her own royal birth.

She stirred. He left quickly. She had always been able to sense him, that never changed.

He went to Integra's bedroom. She was sleeping as well, her back turned to him, laying on the far side of the bed. To anyone else it would seem as if she'd rolled to the edge of the bed in her sleep, but he knew better. Quietly, he removed his coat and laid down next to her, draping one arm loosely over her waist.

"Good morning."

He cracked a smile. "I knew you were awake."

She turned to him and he felt a pinch of sadness at the sight of the bags under her eyes. She hadn't slept well. "I take it the mission was successful?"

"It was dull. These low-grade vampires just don't put up a fight." He stroke her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"In this life, something always is."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Conningwell was here, right after you left."

Sudden anger burned in him. "What did he want?"

"He brought that prissy wife of his, and their son. It made me angry because… he was still making a play for Hellsing, just like all the others. They're worse than the old men, these young ones. At least the old ones admitted that I could get the job done. But to the young ones, I'm just a piece of meat, no matter what I've accomplished."

"Conningwell tried to paw you with his wife present?"

"Not quite. He wanted to form a different kind of alliance, push for a relationship between Annie and his son."

Alucard wasn't even aware of his hands tightening into fists. "She's eight years old."

"In the olden times these arrangement are made before a child is even born." Integra turned away from him again, pulling him against her. Her voice was eerily calm. "Good thing Seras was here. I called for her and his wife blew her top at the sight of a 'heathen creature' in the house."

He held her close. "I saw her cry today."

"Anderson told me." She massaged his hand with her fingers. "Do you want to tell her the truth? The rest of the world be damned. She needs her father."

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"You fear she will reject her heritage, and you with it."

"Yes."

He felt her kiss his fingers. "You should trust her."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I feel I should discuss Anessa a little.

I wrote this story very carefully, characterizing Annie as a tedious combination of Alucard and Integra. You will no doubt notice that she is stubborn, intelligent, and headstrong like her mother. But as I wrote, I realized that in a lot of ways she is very unlike Integra, because of Alucard's genes. She has an air of "sexiness" that Integra doesn't have, in her attitude, clothing, demeanor. It's attributed by the vampiric sexuality in her. She's also more bold than Integra was at that age, has a very strong personality like Alucard, and isn't shy in the least.

Seth is a nice boy overall, just not very bright.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 5

As chance would have it, Anessa Hellsing did encounter Seth Conningwell eventually, but not for another couple of years. Due to the small social circle of their respective parents, their paths were bound to cross in their lifetime. In the grand scheme of things, his impact on her was less than his father had hoped, but more than her parents would have liked.

Everyone who's ever met the girl say she is beautiful, and at the same time think to themselves how solemn she was. In reality she was both. Her black hair hung all the way to her waist, smooth and bright like a black pearl. Her skin was pale and fair, and at eleven she was just beginning to develop. Her body held the signs of a rosebud, bursting to bloom. She was taller than most children her age.

But she rarely smiled. For someone with such a pretty face some would even say it was going to waste with her somber demeanor. Still, most people weren't all that surprised, considering the girl's mother.

Anessa herself, however, was very aware of her own growing solemnity. She spent more time in her room and in the library as she became older, reading book after book, learning much as she could. She took fewer lessons from "Father Alex" and preferred to explore on her own. In fact, she preferred to do most things on her own.

No one had to tell her she was different. She already knew that. There were things she did, could do, that were obviously out of the ordinary. She could lift twice her weight, move in and out of a roomful of people unnoticed, and identify a person by scent before they're even in sight. If she were an ordinary child in every other way, perhaps she would've been foolish enough to think that maybe everyone could do that. But she was not ordinary, and she knew that her surroundings were not ordinary by any means. It was a lot for an eleven-year-old to think about, and that was how she spent most of her time: lost in thought.

She had grown watchful. There was so much to see around her, so many questions unanswered. She had given up hassling old Walter or Seras, though she was certain she knew more than they thought she did. She had never lost that faint ability to pick things up from the minds of others, she's simply become more discreet about it. It was a bit like spying, but she didn't feel guilty about it. After all, she just wanted some answers.

But those she watched the most closely were her parents. By this age, Anessa found herself studying her parents like they were rare beasts in a jungle. Her mother, the iron woman… her father, the man in red whom she had distanced herself from in her coming of age… they were the greatest mysteries of all. She couldn't read them like she could others, especially her father.

Part of her resented her father. She knew it wasn't right but she couldn't help it. It seemed that the older she grew, the less he cared for her. As long as she could remember, he kept a distance from her, not wanting others to know they were related. At a very young age she had learned not to address him as her father in public, and never to talk or touch him when he returned late at night. She knew nothing about him, besides the fact that he did not sleep in the same bed as her mother.

She didn't know where he slept. She didn't know why she was even born if he so obviously didn't want her. Sometimes she felt like he stuck around because it was his job.

The library was quiet and empty, just how she liked it. Anessa sat on the floor by the window though there were many chairs scattered about. She re-read her favorite book, _Dracula_.

Vampires fascinated her. Though she knew what the Hellsing house did, she had never seen a real vampire, and in a lot of way that made it all seem very unreal, like an urban legend. Well, that wasn't completely true. She knew a secret. She wasn't sure how many other people in the house knew as well, but she was certain it was quite a few. She was certain, however, that no one knew _she _knew.

Seras Victoria was a vampire in blue contact lenses.

She smiled to herself, turning another page. The hem of her skirt swept across the floor as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. She dressed herself nowadays, and was quite partial to a combination of simple black and white that wasn't quite gothic but still rather gloomy on most days. She looked like a porcelain doll attending its own funeral. It made most people uneasy and that was how she liked it.

The air became a bit thicker. Anessa rose to her feet. Her father was near. She put the book back on the shelf just as he walked in the door. As far as she could remember, as her mother began to show signs of aging, her father never changed.

"Hello, father," she said formally. He always brought a sort of chill with him, though she contributed it to the chilliness she felt towards him nowadays.

He smiled at her. She returned it with some difficulty. "What were you reading, Annie?"

"Don't call me that," she said pointedly. "I'm too old for that nickname."

For a moment she thought he'd berate her for taking that tone with him, because his eyes hardened. But he didn't. She was a little disappointed. "All right," he said. "What were you reading, Anessa?"

"_Dracula_."

He looked at her; she didn't look at him. It felt like they had nothing to say to each other. He didn't speak again until she began to reach for another book. "What do you do in here all day?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied casually. "What do _you_ do when you go out at night?"

Maybe the question took him by surprise, maybe not. Either way, he didn't answer.

"Do you hunt vampires, Dad?" she pressed on, walking to the door where he stood with a new book in her hand. "Do you have some sort of secret business with them? Or do you find affections in the arms of another woman?"

The corner of his lips twitched. _Finally,_ she mused, _I'm getting _something _out of him. _"Anessa!"

"Is that why you don't sleep in the same bed as mom?"

He grabbed her arm. It shocked her, not just how strong he was but also because he had never made a move to discipline her in her entire life. As far as she was concerned she could do and say whatever she wanted in front of him, and he never cared enough to lift a finger. Now, as she stood there, looking up into his eyes and seeing his anger, she was suddenly aware of how tall and intimidating he was.

But, alas, he let her go with a sigh. She watched him turn away, intending to let her go, get away with it once again.

"You don't care," she said through gritted teeth. He didn't look at her. "You don't care about me! You don't care what I do because you don't want people to know I'm your daughter!"

"Annie…"

She ran from him, not looking back until she was out of breath and had to stop. He didn't follow her. He wouldn't. He didn't care about her. She choked back her tears just in time to see the three figures not far from her in the main hall.

"There she is," said a man she didn't know to her mother. "Well, now that she's here, she and Seth might as well get acquainted. Wouldn't you agree, Sir Hellsing?"

Her mother didn't; Anessa knew that without hearing the answer. But the man gave the boy by his side a nudge towards her and he came forward. He was her age, quite handsome, but she wasn't sure what to do with that fact. He took her hand and kissed it the way a grown man courting a woman would. She felt it was neither here nor there.

"Good evening, pretty lady," he said, and she knew right away that his father had taught him what to say. "I am Seth Conningwell, son of Sir Robert Conningwell."

"Anessa Hellsing," she said, "daughter of Sir Integra Hellsing."

oOo

Anessa didn't particularly like Seth Conningwell at first, but she didn't hate him either. From the moment she laid eyes on him, she could tell her mother didn't care for him nor his father. But for her personally, it was nice to have a companion her age for a change. They spent some time together, on and off, mostly when his father brought him by unannounced. He was the only person outside the Hellsing house who brought her a present on her twelfth birthday.

To be honest, Seth was rather dull. He didn't read much, had little interest in discussing mythology or philosophy, and seemed to have spent most of his life being led from one party to another by his father. Still, they had one thing in common. Seth's mother left his father a little over a year ago, and took little interest in his upbringing since. He was as good as motherless.

"I don't have a father," Anessa told him as they sat in the garden. It was what she'd been training to say in public anyway. She was sitting on the ground with her knees drawn up, and Seth was taking little effort to conceal the fact that he was trying to look up her skirt. She let him, not really caring what he found so interesting there.

"I know," said Seth, leaning back a little further in his lawn chair.

"How do you know that?"

"Everyone knows everything about everyone in these social circles, I think." He looked her in the eyes. "You're really pretty."

She smirked. "Your dad told you to say that."

He started, and blushed a little at having being caught. "How'd you know?"

She shrugged. "Part of that everything knows everything thing, I guess."

"You are, though," he said awkwardly. "You're really pretty. You look like your mom."

"People tell me that. But it figures, doesn't it? They can't tell me I look like my father if I don't have one."

A spark of mischief suddenly lit Seth's eyes. He leaned close to her. "Is it true what they say about your house?"

"What about it?"

"That you have vampire servants?"

So people _do_ know. Anessa nodded. "Yep. We have one. She's been sort of my baby-sitter growing up. But I know she does other stuff, too. She's pretty good with firearms."

"One?" Seth frowned. "I thought there were two. But I guess that's just rumors."

Though she should have dismissed it, Anessa found herself hanging onto that word for the rest of the day. _Two_. For some reason the prospect both scared and excited her. Was there another vampire in the house she didn't know about? Perhaps locked away somewhere?

She began to explore the very next day.

With her mother busy and her father rarely around, she had a certain degree of freedom within the house, as long as her actions didn't arouse suspicion from Walter or Father Alex. She started at the top floor, looking inside every room. There were quite a few rooms in the mansion that she was no allowed in (of course that usually didn't stop her), and she was careful around those. Within these rooms were mostly old archives and documents, some in French or German, both of which she had a working knowledge of, and some in languages she couldn't understand.

The only things of interest were vampire articles, so old the paper was yellow and nearly falling apart. They documented the vampire hunts of her vampire, studies on vampire behavior, and some notes Abraham Van Helsing had made himself.

That last item was a great find.

There were pages and pages of it, hidden in a trunk inside a locked room on the top floor. Anessa had picked the lock, though she wasn't quite sure how she did it; it was one of those things she was just capable of. Plus, she had justified it to herself that, as the future leader of the agency, she had a right to these documents, or at least would one day.

She snuck them, a dozen or so pages at a time, to her room and read them at night. Abraham Van Helsing had been a meticulous note taker, and the main source of his anecdotes was the famed nosferatu, the only one to have its existence recorded in history, Dracula.

Anessa read these carefully, as closely to chronologically as possible. There were records of the hunt conducted after Dracula, with only a few men and a single woman, Mina Harker. In retrospect, it seemed nothing short of a miracle that this odd little band had managed to defeat the strongest vampire in the world.

She found diary entries related to research, observation, and the chase itself that ensued. They were mostly true to the book by Bram Stoker, up to a certain point, that is.

At the end of the 1800's, Dracula was caught and defeated by Van Helsing and his band, this was true.

After that, it was a bit different.

_August 12, 1899_

_The creature still showed some resistance, but the seal is finally showing signs of possible permanence. Perhaps we finally go it right this time. It has been exhausting, this whole process, and sometimes I was certain we'd fail. But alas, hope is in sight, and just in time, too. Our supply of quicksilver is running low… God knows it's the only way we've kept the Count in our grasp…_

_November 20, 1899_

_Dracula attempted to rebel once more today, but was restrained by the seal. Still, we wonder every day whether the next will be the one in which he finally succeeds…_

_March 10, 1900_

_The experiments are going well. It does sadden me a bit that we are unable to ease the pain sustained by the Count through this process, but anesthesia of any sort had proved ineffective on him. His body was a marvel, the amount of potential it held! Should we succeed… I can't imagine the possibilities…_

…

_July 2, 1901_

_The Count seems to have made peace with his position at last. He's begun to speak to the rest of us, asking questions regarding God and humanity…_

…

_January 14, 1902_

_What a mind the vampire has! His intellect is nothing short of stunning, despite his strangely warped perception of the world in general. The conversations he could hold, the ideas he presented… were he normal man, he could have made quite a king, though I suppose those days are behind him._

…

_October 21, 1905_

_It would seem that his power grows as time goes on. The test substances are taking well to his body. He seems to enjoy his increasing ease of transformation and used it every now and then to frighten the staff…_

The diary went on, with at least one entry every week, recording the work done by Van Helsing and his men on the vampire. From what Anessa could make out, they were experimenting on Dracula, finding out ways to make him stronger. They had also formulated some sort of "seal" to keep him from breaking free and wreaking havoc once more.

Eventually, much to her disappointment, the diary ended. Either Van Helsing had died, or had become too old to keep up his journal. Still, nowhere in his diary did he indicate the death of Dracula, which was how it was written by Bram Stoker. Nor did he tell of intentions to release the vampire.

So what could it mean? Anessa wondered as she gathered up the last pages and returned them to their hiding place. Dracula wasn't destroyed. If anything, he had become more powerful, but placed under Van Helsing's servitude. Did he escape after his master's death? Was the seal broken?

Or was he still around?

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Maybe Dracula still lived in the Hellsing house.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: as you will see, Anessa is much more prepared in the career aspect than her mother was.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 6

When Seth showed up again, she found herself preoccupied. He followed her around like a sick puppy as she paced the halls and library, lost in her own thoughts and ignoring his attempts to gain her attention. She had learned a while back from prodding about in his mind that he no longer needed his father to coax him into wooing her. At some point, he had started to do it on his own. She never really fancied herself especially attractive, but apparently the boy thought so.

And, having inherited her father's sneakiness, she realized that made Seth useful.

"Let's play," she said to him.

He shrugged. "What do you want to play?"

She winked. "Hide and seek."

Seth rolled his eyes. "That's a kid's game, Anessa."

"So?"

"Aren't we too old to play kids' games?"

She reached out and touched his chin. He was surprised but didn't pull back. Of course he didn't – it was what he wanted, she could see it as if he was made of glass. He'd been longing for her to touch him, if only a little. "Come on," she said softly. "It'll be fun."

He nodded.

"But not just any hide-and-seek," she continued. "The winner is determined by who can find the most interesting place to hide."

"That's not fair. It's your house. You must know all the good places."

"Then you'll have to find some place I haven't found before." She gave him a light shove. "Go."

For several rounds the game proved to be fruitless. Seth indeed found some interesting places to hide, but none that she hadn't found before. He did discover a closet concealed in the back of a storage room that she hadn't explored, but it held nothing of interest, just a few stacks of towels and her mother's winter coats. They looked small, perhaps from when she was Anessa's age.

Finally, she grew tired of the game and gave up on the last round. Instead, she entertained herself by following Seth around unnoticed as he searched for a place to hide. He looked on the second floor, then the first, and finally found a stairwell that led downward. She smirked to herself.

"That's a dead end," she said, making him jump as she popped out from behind. "There's nothing down there.

"I can see that," he said, turning his gaze one side and then the other. The space at the bottom of the stairs leading down from the first floor led to a small area surrounded by brick walls. There was enough room for a few people to stand comfortably, perhaps a little storage, but nothing else. "Why is this even here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I came down here once and saw it. My mom told me that it was built to store construction stuff when this place was first constructed. And now it's just empty."

Seth slapped a hand against the far wall. "Seems kind of pointless." He leaned down. "What's this?"

Anessa tapped her foot impatiently. Having found nothing new, she was getting bored. "What's what?"

"This crack here."

She went over. Sure enough, at the adjoining seam of two walls, where Seth was pointing, there was a crack. It was very thin, and very neat.

Anessa straightened and squinted in the darkness. She could always see better in the dark than most. Not having had a reason to notice before, she just realized that the far wall was a different color than the other walls. It was newer, and built with pink and orange bricks, while all the others were faded gray with age.

"Whoa," she breathed.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I think I heard my mom calling."

And so Seth had proved useful after all.

That night she began to pour through the family archives again, along with old blueprints of the mansion. There were several preserved copies of every floor, including the attic. There had been additions made throughout the years, and minor renovations here and there.

And there was a stairwell, she saw, on the northeast side of the first floor, the one she and Seth had descended today. But according to the prints, it led nowhere. There was nothing to be found on the basement.

But there was one. She was certain of it. It had been blocked off fairly recently. Did her mother order to have it done when she came to power? Either way, the bricks were definitely less than twenty years old.

Her heart pounded. She had found a secret.

_That's it_, she thought, _that's where Dracula is kept. He's still here._

oOo

Integra glowered at the roomful of men at the table.

Most of them are closer to her age now, having taken over for their predecessors. The old men have finally relented their grip on the thrones of the Convention. The majority of these longer men are bright, sharp, capable, and arrogant. But at least, she saw with a silver of satisfaction, they were somewhat intimidated by her experience.

"I know little of Hellsing's work," said one of the men. "I was only told that it involves… vampires."

There was a light wave of chuckles, as if it was all a big joke to these princes of the elite. They were probably hidden safely in their parents' summer cottages overseas during the war. Integra retained her composure.

"That is correct," she said. "The Hellsing family is the most prestigious vampire-hunting family in history. The efforts of our top soldiers was what led to the end of the war."

"Are the rumors correct, Sir Hellsing?" asked another. "Did you inherit this position on the Convention at sixteen?"

"They are false," she replied, adding before the man could smirk, "I was thirteen."

There weren't any more questions about her or the agency after that.

Been around these men made her worry. Ever since the end of the war over a decade ago and the loss of several valuable allies, she had been concerned that the quality of leadership in the country has deteriorated.

Take the two men to her left for example. She watched them as the meeting went on. It was obvious they had never ever seen a real battle, perhaps not even a real gun. While they were intelligent and reasonable, every idea they managed to come up with stemmed from one textbook or another. And the man across from her, who had succeeded Irons not long ago, lacked basic wisdom and knowledge of politics. He was sharp, but not sharp enough.

Then there was Conningwell, who took up his post last year and claimed a seat right next to her at every meeting. He smelled like a bucket of expensive cologne and his knee was always much too close to hers.

She sighed. The Queen was growing old also, and slowly losing grip on her power to rule. Soon there will be a new king, her nephew whom Integra had had mild acquaintances with in the past. The man was nothing short of a fool. She worried about the future of England.

Conningwell leaned a bit closer to her. "You see distracted today, Sir Hellsing."

She shook herself. "I'm fine."

"If you wish, after the meeting we could…"

"No."

The meeting of the Convention of Twelve, the secret elites who ran the country, has been reduced to nothing more than another place for sleazy men to offer pickup lines. Integra fought not to lose her temper. It took her a moment to realize that the men had stopped talking and were looking at a spot behind him.

She turned around.

"I'm sorry, Dad…" Seth was muttering as Anessa shoved him aside, rolling her eyes. "She made me follow her…"

The girl stepped into the room. Most of the men have never met Integra's daughter. Even at twelve, she was stunning. Her entire body radiated confidence and strength. Integra nodded to Anessa.

"What did I say about interrupting my meetings, Anessa?" Her tone was more curios than angry.

"I know, Mom." The girl eyed the Convention members, most of whom were surprised at her boldness. "I just wanted to see what all the hubbub was about. The group that runs England; I just can't help but be curious."

Integra started to tell her to leave, but someone else beat her to the beat. "It may be a bit over your head, little lady," said one of the men. The other laughed in good humor. "Give it a few years and maybe you can sit in on one some day."

Anessa tilted her head. "Really?" she asked. "I wouldn't understand? I believe my mother was about my age when she first began to serve on the Convention."

She was up to something; Integra could tell and kept silent as her daughter rounded her chair and approached the table. Anessa rested her elbows on its surface and looked over every man before asking, "so what do you all do here?"

One man sneered in amusement. "We were discussing the repercussions of a new political regime," he said in mock seriousness. "With a new heir to the throne coming to power we thought we ought to prepare for possible problems that may lay ahead as a result of the transition."

He looked at the girl with laughter in his eyes. Anessa blinked.

"The current leadership is far too conservative in my opinion," she said. "But it's understandable, considering the Queen is from the past generation, or perhaps even the one before that and would reasonably prefer to keep the lines of operations the way she is familiar with. Liberal groups may take chance to stage social up rises to bring about changes most beneficial to them. Their interests may cause conflicts that the government is too much to deal with while trying to get used to new leadership."

There was not a closed mouth in the room, except for Integra's. She lit a cigar and allowed a thin smile to creep to her face.

Someone coughed, breaking the awkward silence. "So… do you have suggestions?"

"Reassure the public," Anessa replied. "For the activist group not to jump at the chance to cause problems, they must be convinced that there is no chance to jump at. In fact, it even be best to keep the transition of the throne undercover, as if it's no big deal. If the government acts sure of itself, the civilians will perceive it as confident and impenetrable. In a way, it's sending a message of 'we are not loosening our grip'. Of course, there is also the problem of diplomacy and preventing foreign countries from taking this chance to invade. The same message must also travel overseas, but much more subtly."

There was more uncomfortable coughing as she looked at her mother. "What do you think, Mom?"

Integra smiled and ruffled her daughter's hair. "I think it's time you wash up for dinner before Walter hunts you down."

Anessa grinned and left the table, gesturing for Conningwell's timid son to follow. Integra watched her leave and their eyes met for a second before she disappeared out of sight.

_She's claiming her position_, Integra realized. _She wanted to make sure the men of the Convention do not slight her when she comes of age._

Perhaps there was hope for England after all.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: things to explain here in case it's not clear…

After Annie's birth, in order to keep her true heritage from her, Integra stashed some things in the dungeons and had it temporarily sealed off, which is why the wall is there.

Annie is beginning to develop her father's power in stages.

Alucard can show up in photos because, come on, he's no common vampire.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 7

Anessa stood before the mysterious wall. She felt along it, every inch of it, looking for something. She wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps a secret lever that will open it up like a secret entrance in a mystery movie. But there was none to be found. She had brought down a stool, stood on it, and felt along the ceiling. Still nothing.

There were plenty of tools to be found. One or twice she had brought down a shovel, a crowbar, or some other sort of hard instrument. But they would leave marks, she realized, and she didn't want anyone to know she'd been down here. What if there was really nothing? She'd get in trouble for knocking a hole in the wall.

But there was definitely something behind it. She knew that in her heart. Every time she was there her pulse would pick up and she would sense something in the air, lingering like a ghost. She considered just going for it.

Still, she was strong, but was she _that_ strong? After all, she didn't know how thick the wall was.

She put her ear against it and imagined that she could hear voices. The mystery of Dracula was calling to her. If he was indeed around, and as powerful as Van Helsing described, he could be very useful indeed. It had occurred to her that he may be dangerous, but she wasn't frightened. Why should she be? She was a Hellsing.

Anessa stepped back and pressed her palms against the wall, savoring its chill.

_If only I could…_

The wall swallowed her right hand.

With a yelp she jumped back and yanked her hand out. The wall stood silent and still. Heart pounding, she reached forward with a fingertip and touched it. It was solid. Had she imagined it? Her whole hand had gone inside it as if it was made of water.

Is it magic? Maybe it wasn't a wall at all.

She stepped to it again, put her hand up against it, and drew a deep breath. The space under her hand seemed to change, to grow soft. She pushed forward, and her hand went through. It felt strange, but also, for some reason, natural.

She reached in further. The wall took in her wrist, elbow… until her entire arm was submerged. Staring at it in a daze, she picked up one foot and began to step forward…

"Annie?"

She pulled out again and spun around, just as Seras Victoria appeared in the stairwell. She was the only person besides her parents and Walter who still called her Annie.

"What are you doing down here, Annie?"

She shrugged and smiled. "Nothing. Just playing."

Seras arced a brow but said nothing. As long as Anessa had known her, she had never changed. She wondered what it was like to be nineteen forever.

"Come on up," said Seras. "Father Anderson is looking for you. You're late for bible study."

"Dad always said the bible is a pointless endeavor."

Seras chuckled. "Well, don't let Father Anderson hear you say that."

She went reluctantly, but not before casting one last look at the wall. She saw it in its entirety, all its size and mystery.

But, though some part of her sensed them, she did not see the red eyes watching her from beneath the stairwell.

oOo

Walter served her a small steak with a side of potatoes in the dining room. The meat was rare and fresh, just how she liked it. She ate alone, as she usually did. Every now and then her mother would find time to dine with her, but her father had never taken a meal at her side as long as she could remember.

The butler was getting on in years. Though he still moved with greater ease and grace than most men his age, Anessa could tell that his prime was far behind him. Judging by his body, he was once a rather athletic man, full of strength and vigor, but nowadays he walked slowly, was much more patient, and preferred to go to bed early to rest his weary bones.

"You're awfully quiet today, little lady," he noted with a wrinkled smile as he poured her a drink. "Something on your mind?"

She shrugged. "The usual."

"Trying to figure out the world again?"

"There's really not much in this world to figure out." Anessa stuffed a forkful of food in her mouth. "I think there's actually more mysteries in this house."

"What makes you say that?" Pulling out a chair, Walter lowered himself down into it carefully. "What could there be in this house that you don't already know? And don't talk with your mouth full, it's not becoming of a lady."

"According to social customs, neither is wearing three-piece suits," Anessa said around a mouthful of potatoes. "But Mom does it anyway."

"True. Your mother was never one for tradition."

"It also indicates that married couples ought to sleep in the same bed." Walter cleared his throat and Anessa noted his unease but pretended not to. "Where does my Dad sleep, Walter?" she asked casually as if discussing the weather. "I've lived here twelve years and never knew that."

"Well…"

"Does he even sleep?"

"Of course he does."

"So where does he sleep?"

Walter muttered something and got to his feet. To Anessa it sounded like "downstairs". Her heart skipped a beat as her young mind raced, trying on various conclusions for size.

Her father must know of Dracula's existence, she figured. That's why he never seems to be around. He's guarding Dracula somehow using the magic wall. It seemed crazy but she couldn't let it go. After all, there were nuttier things in this world. Wasn't she herself an heir to a business hunting a thing that most of the world thought was a myth?

oOo

She stood before the wall again. It was vibrating as if with a life of its own. She heard its voice. It was calling to her by name. Every instinct told her to run away and never come back to it, to forget about it and go back upstairs. But she couldn't. She looked down and saw that the floor had swallowed her feet, just like the wall had swallowed her hands before.

Then it was speaking to her, the voices of the wall. It whispered dark things in her ears about blood and death. She didn't want to hear them, tried to shut them out, but couldn't.

"Who are you?" she demanded, and there was an organic quiver in the air.

"Who are _you_?" it replied.

"I am Anessa Elizabeth Cneajna Hellsing."

"There is more to your name," said the wall.

"What does that mean?"

"It means your name does not reflect your royal blood, daughter of the dragon."

"Stop it!" she shouted. "What do you want? Who are you?"

"I am the Bird of Hermes."

She bolted upright in her bed, drenched in cold sweat and stifling the scream on her lips. Time oiled pass as she sat in the darkness, accompanied only by the shadows of the moonlight.

How much of the dream did she remember? Her mind was hazy. She couldn't convince herself to go back to sleep again. Quietly, she slipped off the bed and dressed herself as quickly as possible. To slow down would be to let fear and apprehension take hold. Her mother had always taught her not to hesitate if a decision was already made.

She knew what she had to do. It was only a matter of time and she couldn't wait any longer. A shiver struck her as the voice from the dream echoed in her skull.

oOo**  
**

It didn't really occur to her to be afraid until she reached the top of the stairs, at the other end of which stood the silent wall. As she gripped the railing she realized her fingers were trembling, but there was no turning back. If she didn't find out now, she'd just keep coming back and probably lose her nerve each time.

Her footsteps echoed much too loudly as she descended. For some reason she was convinced she'd slip before she'd reach the bottom. But nothing of the sort happened. She reached the wall.

It seemed a bit less scary than in her dream. For one thing, it wasn't alive, nor was it talking to her. She looked down and was relieved to see her feet planted on solid ground. There was no light, but she could see well enough. It didn't really occur to her whether she'll need a light on the other side.

"Here goes," she said out loud, half to calm herself, and half attempting to perhaps goad the wall into talking. She accomplished neither.

Her fingertips found the surface of the wall, cold and solid. She felt along it and tried to recreate whatever it was that opened it up before.

"Open sesame," she said. It sounded silly.

Nothing.

She slammed a fist against it. "Come on, open up!"

Still nothing. With a sigh she turned around and slumped her back against it, swearing in some very un-lady-like ways, using words from several languages that she wasn't sure when she had picked up. _If only…_

Then the wall turned into air.

With a startled gasp she found herself freefalling backwards. The world darkened for a moment as she passed through the thickness of the wall. Her back struck the floor hard.

For a moment she thought she'd fallen into oblivion, because there was not a single source of light all around her. She raised her hands to her face, an inch away, and couldn't make out her fingers.

She stood up. Blood pounded in her ears as she tried to look around and realized there was nothing to see but darkness. The wall had indeed swallowed her. The darkness was so thick that there seemed to be no up or down, left or right. She could no longer tell which direction she'd come from.

Anessa drew a deep breath.

"Hello?"

A seemingly endless string of echoes greeted her. Judging by its direction, the wall was to her right, and there was space to her left. She reached out with her right hand and touched the wall. There it was. She had passed through it. But there was no way to see on this side. Suddenly, she realized with horror that she may not be able to go back to the other side.

Too late now…

She felt along the wall, found its edge and followed it down. What laid before her must be a corridor, but she had no way of telling how long it was. For all she knew, she could be inside a vast underground maze, doomed to wonder forever, or until she died of starvation. Her mind filled with images of corpses lining the dark halls.

By sheer luck, before she could think up any worse scenarios, her hand stuck a bump on the wall. She blinked in surprise as white lights flickered on one after another overhead, lighting the corridor. Some of them were out, but most were still in good condition. She pulled herself away from the safety of the wall and peered down the corridor.

There were actually several of them, intersection one another, and the area wasn't as big as she'd imagined. She estimated that it was perhaps half the size of the first floor of the mansion. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of stone. She was definitely underground, because there were no windows to be seen.

Anessa walked to the center of the corridor and began her exploration.

The only way to the rest of mansion was up the stairs she had descended. Obviously this area was meant to be hidden by the wall, which now looked just like an ordinary wall and nothing more. It was clean, but seemed to be deserted. She wondered whether it was ever meant to be opened up again.

There were also doors lining the sides of each corridor. Their presence made her uneasy, but after knocking on a few she was quite certain they were empty, either that or their inhabitants were very, very quiet.

Something tickled the back of her neck. Was someone following? She spun around and saw no one.

Nearly all of the doors were locked. Eventually she worked her way around to each one. Most of them had complex locks she could not pick, but one managed to open after a bit of struggle with a bobby pin. She peeked inside carefully, ready to pull it shut should something make a lunge at her.

Lining the room were neat stacks of wooden cases, along with shelves filled with files. There was a light switch on the wall that proved to be defective after a few flicks. Anessa pushed the door open all the way and looked on the shelves using borrowed light from the hallway.

They mostly seemed to be photographs. She couldn't imagine why they'd be locked away down here. Maybe no one was interested in them anymore? She pulled out one thick album, blew the dust off its cover, and flipped through it. The photos were old and faded, dating all the way back to the first half of the twentieth century.

Some of them were specimen records, photos of various forms of ghouls and a few hand-drawn sketches of vampires. But the majority actually seemed like normal photographs taken by an average family. Most of the ones inside this album were of a boy, a year or two older than she was, dressed in black pants, white shirt, and a vest. He had dark shiny hair and bright eyes. Covering his hands were a pair of gloves with the fingers replaced by metal rings.

She squinted. Could this be her father as a child? They certainly did share that same look of mischief.

She turned another page. More pictures of the boy, this time on a battlefield, taking on what seemed to be various vampires and ghouls. The pictures were blurry, an indication of his inhuman speed. Anessa studied them with fascination. What a soldier Hellsing had! And so young! Was her father a soldier for Hellsing? Was that how he met her mother?

There was a date scribbled on the picture's lower right corner. September 1943.

No, too old. Her father didn't look a day over 35, though she was certain he's older than that. Still, he couldn't be _that_ old. She calculated the years on her fingers. If this boy were still alive he'd be in his eighties.

Excitement took over. Frantically, she took out every picture in the album and turned them over until she found the one she was looking for.

On the back of one of the boy's photos was a scrawled name. _Walter C. Dolnez_.

Under it, as if playing a joke, someone had added in a childish scrawl: _Shinigami_.

Hellsing's Angel of Death. Hadn't she heard it somewhere before in passing? Yes, someone had mentioned it, along with Hellsing's past war records. She knew about the organization's tangle with a Nazi regime. Among the most accomplished heroes of the war was a young soldier known only as the Angel of Death.

She didn't realize he'd be this young, nor that he was still alive.

She turned last page. There was one more photo of Walter in his more spirited days, but this one was different. He had his arm draped around another person, and they were both grinning, mugging for the camera. She held the album closer to her face and didn't even hear herself gasp.

The long-haired girl next to Walter was a spitting image of her.

Their hair was cut the exact same way, their eyes tilted in the same way when they smiled, and their face… it was like looking into a mirror. A distance memory drifted in the back of her mind, of Walter saying she looked like someone when he first cut her hair in this style. Who? There was no doubt that this girl was related to her. Was she a distant relative that no one ever bothered to mention?

The picture was taken in the middle of a war. Maybe she had died soon after. It wasn't impossible. Anessa felt a pinch of sadness.

But now there were more questions to ask, and she knew exactly what to do. Carefully, she slipped the picture out of the album, looked around for good measure, and tucked it into her pocket.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: first, let me answer a few questions.

Brandi: well, it's implied in the manga that Alucard and the Queen have a lot of history together. I made a natural assumption that she would recognize his features in his daughter.

Tolea: Um… no idea who you're talking about, but the "girl" in the picture is Alucard, in this prequel Dawn form.

Now the extra notes concerning the chapter. In the anime, when Integra was chased into the basement by her uncle, she touched the door to Alucard's room and her mind was filled with all sorts of scenes from when he was bound. The same happens here to Anessa.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 8

Walter knew it wasn't going to be a normal day when Anessa got up extra early and followed him around as he went about cooking and cleaning, grinning all the while. When he asked her if she needed something, she'd smile bigger as if she was keeping a secret. To be honest, it was making him quite curious.

"Will you tell me about the second world war, Walter?" she asked in a suspiciously sweet voice as he made Integra's tea. It made him nervous, as her father usually did when he lingered around hinting that he needed better weapons.

"I've told you everything I can, dear," he replied. "I wasn't really very involved. I'm just a butler, you know."

"Butlers do lots of other things." She leaned on the kitchen counter and drummed her fingers on its surface. "I mean, they can't call you the Shinigami for nothing, right?"

He neared dropped the cup in his hand.

The girl was watching his reaction with a certain amount of satisfaction. If she didn't already know the truth then he'd just betrayed it. Swallowing thickly, he set down the cup and turned to her.

"How do you know about that, Anessa?"

She took a piece of paper out of his pocket, but pulled it back when he reached out to take it. He examined it as she held on to its corner. It was a photo from way back when. He sighed. It's been a long time since those days.

"Who's your girlfriend?"

He started. "My what?"

"That girl in the picture. Your look pretty close. Was she your girlfriend? Comrade? Partner in crime?"

Walter laughed. Anessa watched in confusion as he laughed until tears fell from his eyes. He removed his glasses and wiped his face. "That's a good one. Girlfriend…"

"Who is she? She's the one you said I looked like, isn't she? Am I related to her?"

Walter tapped his chin. "You most certainly are," he said. "But most importantly, where did you find this?"

"In the basement."

"The…" Realization dawned on him. The old butler sat down on the nearest chair. "You went through that wall, didn't you?"

Anessa perked up. "So it _is_ magic!"

"No, no," Walter said. "There's nothing magical about the wall. It's just… Well, the point is you went through it and found your way back out again. That means you can have this now."

He reached into his own pocket and removed a key that had sat in there for the past decade. Anessa's eyes widened as he dropped it into her hands.

"I think you know what this is for. It will open every door except one."

"What about that one?"

"That one you will have to figure out on your own."

oOo

Anessa Hellsing spent several nights in the basement, which Walter now informed her was the "dungeons" of the house, pouring over room after room of photographs and records.

At first she'd tell herself to come down at night and only stay an hour or two, but the moment she was there she couldn't tear herself away. Moving through the wall in either direction now came with ease and she could always find the light switch. Once or twice she unwittingly stayed underground all night and felt energetic the whole time. There was something about the night that was different from the day. She had never noticed before for in some way it energized her.

Besides the room she found, there were two other rooms filled with information. The rest held various equipment, chemicals, and even old furniture. Most of them looked like they were on the verge of collapsing from age and she left them alone, a bit apprehensive that they may fall on her in a pile should she touch anything.

There more photos of Walter, along with a thick file on his life and accomplishments during World War II. The more she read, the more she realized how little she knew. Walter was on of the most feared men in the world at the tender age of fourteen. He was barely old enough to sit at the grownups' table at dinner parties, but single-handedly brought down armies of ghouls and vampires without breaking a sweat.

In comparison, there were less photos of the dark-haired girl. But it was obvious that they were partners and worked together. She was also quite young in appearance and carried a Tommy gun. Also, no one had written her name down anywhere that she could find.

As time went on, there were more records of Walter's heroics. She looked at photos of him as he grew older, became a teenager, a young man, a middle-aged butler, and finally the even-mannered old gentleman she knew today. For a while there were accompanying photos of the girl, but at some point they vanished, further convincing Anessa that she had died young.

The key Walter had given her indeed worked on all rooms except one.

This last one had a large steel door and no lock, but couldn't be opened. She examined it closely and decided that it must be welded shut, or something to that manner. She tried pushing it, hammering on it, and prying it with tools. Nothing worked. Didn't even leave a dent.

A little over a week after she received Walter's key, Anessa found herself outside the strange door for at least the twentieth time. _You have to figure it out yourself_, Walter had said. What was there to figure out?

It had occurred to her to phase through it like she did the wall, but so far it hadn't proved effective. Whatever protected this door was different. But something also felt similar. She sat down with her back against it and closed her eyes, taking in the chilly sensation it left on her back.

_Father…_

Her eyes snapped open. Did someone speak?

_Help me father…_

She looked down the hall and saw with shock that the wall blocking the entrance had vanished. Instead, the stairwell was in plain view. A small figure came charging down it, as fast as its little legs would carry it. Anessa rose to her feet.

"Hey…"

The figure half-ran, half-stumbled towards her and she saw that it was another girl, about her age with long blond hair and blue eyes like hers. She looked very familiar.

_Help…_

She took a step towards the girl but she kept coming as if not seeing her. Anessa moved to step out of the way but it was too late. The girl ran into her.

Or rather ran through her, and disappeared through the locked door.

She shivered.

Her back was still against the door. The wall was still there. She hadn't stood and there was no one in sight. She rose slowly, making sure it was real this time. Her fingers touched the door to steady her legs.

_Father…_

She jerked her hand back.

That blond girl was wearing glasses, she was sure of it. She had a round face and big blue eyes. The innocence on her face would soon be washed away by time and experience. She would grow taller and her eyes would harden. She would stop wearing skirts.

Anessa looked at the door in awe. The rules of time and space were different in the dungeons, it seems. Walls opened up like doors, and doors did not hide just rooms but memories. That was what this door held. It remembered the past as if it were alive.

That child was the ghost of her mother's memory.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Alucard kissed Integra's neck, face, and lips. They all tasted equally sweet, and although being secretive added a bit of spice to it, he still wished as he did everyday that it didn't have to take place behind locked doors. She fiddled with his necktie, undoing it and tossing it gracelessly aside. He unbuttoned her jacket and blouse and groped her soft breasts, laying her slowly down on the bed.

She pressed a finger to his lips. "This is as far as it goes."

He nodded grimly. "Of course. That's always as far as it goes."

The smile on her face was mixed with a hint of sadness as she helped him out of his shirt. Her fingers against his bare torso was heaven. He pulled her close and slid his tongue under her earlobe. She laughed gently at the sensation.

Over ten years now, every night for a little while in her bedroom, in her office; once or twice he even led her to his coffin, phasing through the wall they had constructed to keep the secrets of the past from emerging too early. But it was never enough, not for either of them. Though both longed to, they had never had the basic pleasures granted a husband and wife.

"I know it can't happen," he said to her. "But I can't help but hope every night that maybe this will be the night."

"Duty comes first."

"As it always does."

He has never seen her naked form in all its glory, nor has she dared to reach below his waist. Temptation was a dangerous thing. They feared that one small step would result in far too much, with no room for regret later. She was still human and had to be protected by remaining virginal, no matter how badly he desired her.

"Conningwell was making eyes at me again at the meeting."

"Men always desire the forbidden fruit, especially one so luscious."

She was aging. The signs were subtle but not unnoticeable. Over two decades of nonstop work was taking its toll on her once youthful body. Her face showed signs of fatigue that seemed to etch deeper into her skin with each passing day. Her eyes were still strong and bright, but now with a hint of weariness. And she was always worried. He could see it. There was just so much burden laid upon her shoulders. How he wished he could take them away.

"There is a way, Integra…"

"Please don't start."

"I can't stop hoping that your answer will change."

He wanted nothing more than to be with her. The loss of Mina a century ago was devastating, and she hadn't even returned his affections. Integra was so much more. She was everything Mina was times ten. And this time, they were together, in some form or fashion. He wanted it to last, wasn't sure what he'd do if she wasn't around.

"You can be free of all this. We both can…"

"I just can't. I cannot betray my family's legacy."

"The legacy will be carried on."

"She's too young…"

He kissed her. He didn't want to argue. There was no point. He wasn't going to force her into anything. But he kept hoping, night after night, that maybe she'll finally say "yes", finally accept his proposal and follow him into the night. The human world did not deserve her. It was wearing her down and robbing her of her spirit and beauty, giving back nothing in return. He wanted to take her around the world, show her freedom, show her happiness. He often dreamed of re-visiting Romania with her on his arm. It's been a very long time.

"I…"

"Don't say it. We both know it. It's just a word."

Yes… "love" was just a four-letter word.

oOo

Anessa stood before the door once more. There was a sense of finality to it, she felt. This was the place she'd been seeking. The secrets of Dracula, of Hellsing's past, the answers to all her questions, were right here. But a view into the past couldn't be seen with her own eyes. It had to be seen through the eyes of another.

Every time she put her hands on the door, the blond girl would appear again, each time running down those stairs, crying for her father to help. Anessa knew it was her mother, calling for her grandfather Arthur Hellsing. Her grandfather had died when her mother was still young. Had he died yet at this time?

Every time the thirteen-year-old version of her mother came down the stairs, she would go into the locked room, and there it would end. But she knew that wasn't it. There was more. She simply couldn't see it on this side of the door.

She pressed her ear to it. There was no sound on the other side, but the door itself was alive. It was guarded by something. She ran her hand down it. Who was guarding it?

_Open the door, Dracula,_ she thought, half-jokingly_, I want to see._

It opened.

It took her a little time to get over the shock, and a little more time to realize she wasn't alone. But under the circumstances, she still recovered her senses faster than most would've. The door of the last room swung open and she found herself standing next to her mother, thirteen years old with fear in her innocent eyes.

_She wasn't Sir Hellsing then,_ she thought to herself, _just Integra._

The room was empty save for a few length of rotting chains laying against the far wall. Anessa looked around and found nothing of interest.

"Even down here, it's just a matter of time."

She thought Integra had spoken to her, but a quick glance revealed that the girl had settled against on the floor with her knees drawn to her chin, muttering to herself. Her posture and demeanor was completely unlike the woman she knew as her mother. Still, every strong woman was a little girl once.

Anessa could feel the girl's panic. She was afraid. Someone was chasing her and she feared that she was going to die down here. She felt her own heart constrict.

Suddenly, Integra's eyes snapped upward in surprise. Anessa followed her gaze and started terribly at the sight of the body against the wall across from them. It sat straight up with its legs splayed out in front of it, bound in thick leather straps from neck to toe. Long white hair fell from its head in a puddle around its body.

It wasn't there a moment ago… was it?

"What…" Integra gasped. She crawled towards it carefully as if it might spring to life. "A corpse… is it… dead?"

One quiet step after another, Anessa followed, as if afraid the memory of her mother might hear her. A corpse kept in the dungeons… could it be the one she was looking for? Is it the Nosferatu? Had her mother already discovered him early in life?

Integra was kneeling next to the corpse now. She gave a small, dry laugh. "This isn't funny, father… was this corpse supposed to protect me?" She sighed and sat down next to it. "I have nowhere else to go. I guess I'll share the cell with you now."

Several minutes passed as Integra sat there, rocking back and forth on the floor with a drained expression on her face. She seemed to be very tired as she looked up at the ceiling, her head against the cold wall.

"I thought you would send me a knight in shining armor, father. Leaving a body down here for twenty years… where were you thinking?"

She buried her face in her hands. "I don't want to die…"

Anessa wringed her hands nervously. Something was wrong. She didn't know what it was but there was nothing she could do but watch. Her mother had always told her that she came to lead Hellsing at a young age because her father had died, but she never elaborated on the details. Obviously there was more to the story. Much more.

The door was kicked open with a ban. Integra scream. Anessa spun around.

Wasn't the door already open? No, in Integra's memory it was closed. It's the same reason she hadn't seen the corpse before – she couldn't see what Integra hadn't noticed.

In walked a group of well-dressed men, led by one with brown hair and burning eyes. They were speaking but their words were garbled. Anessa guessed that it was because Integra couldn't remember exactly what it was that they said.

"You hide yourself well, Integra," said the leader clearly.

"Do you want Hellsing so badly, uncle?" Integra cried. There was desperation in her voice. "It's because of people like you that father left Hellsing to me!"

Mom had an uncle?

More garbled words as "uncle"'s men examined the corpse and dismissed it with laugh. Uncle stepped forward and struck Integra across the face, sending her sprawling. Then he drew his gun and pointed it at her.

"I won't give Hellsing to a kid like you!"

He fired. The sound was deafening, just how Integra must have remembered it. She cried out as a gash appeared on her arm. Anessa smelled blood. She looked from Integra, to her uncle, then back again. Could she do something? Could she stop the past before her mother was killed?

More garbled words filled her ears, this time dotted with surprise and panic as Integra's uncle raised his gun once more. There was another sound in the air.

All eyes, including Anessa's, turned in unison.

The men, who seemed to be (or at least dressed like) hired thugs, were making a commotion. Anessa felt her throat dry up as the corpse stuck out its long tongue and licked up her mother's blood.

For a long minute there was nothing but silence as the corpse drank. Then it lifted its head and greeted its occupants with a cold, leering stare. Those eyes, glowing red. The eyes of a vampire. The name slipped out of Anessa's mouth before she could stop it.

"Dracula."

Then the vampire torn free of its restraints.

Chaos ensued. She couldn't make out all the details because Integra couldn't remember them. She saw precisely what her mother saw: one beast back to life from the dead, in the middle of a complete, one-sided massacre.

Blood painted the walls as Dracula tore apart each man in turn, drinking their blood as he went, replenishing his thirst, built up over twenty years. He was so fast, so powerful, it was dazzling to the mind. Anessa watched in awe. The power he possessed… it was second to one, just like Van Helsing had written. Her mother had awakened him.

There was only her uncle left, pointing a shaky gun at the vampire, who promptly tore off his fingers. Then he left the writhing man and went to Integra.

He knelt before her with his head bowed.

"Are you injured, Sir Hellsing?"

Anessa's heart skipped a beat. That voice…

"I await your orders, master."

_No way…_

The shock on her own face matched that of Integra's. Both girls held still as the vampire knelt there, neither noticing Integra's uncle reach for his gun.

Her uncle fired. Anessa yelped.

The vampire blocked it with one arm.

"Your blood reeks to the high heaven. You are unfit to be this family's head."

There was no mistake. It had to be.

Her mother had taken hold of the nearest pistol and raised it, resting her arm on the vampire's for leverage. Her uncle gasped.

She fired.

"What's your name?"

Anessa felt dizzy. Her knees buckled, but a strong hand held her up from behind.

"Alucard."

Then it was all gone. Her mother, the nosferatu, the blood and bodies, the great-uncle she never knew she had, who had attempted to murder his young niece for the family headship. The room stood silent.

No, the nosferatu was still here. The hand on her shoulder, keeping her up. She turned around slowly and nearly fell again as her body quivered. Her father dropped to his knees and lowered her to hers, brushing locks of hair out of her face.

"Have you seen enough?" She nodded hazily. "She was just about your age."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: um… I realized recently that people ask questions in the reviews and I don't get to them on time and just forget. So if you have a question I didn't answer, send it to me via email so I don't forget.

Also, if you know about the Hellsing webcomic called And Shine Heaven Now, I have a cameo today under the name Remeth. Yay me!

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 10

Alucard led his daughter to his chambers. As it was protected by his own magic, she hadn't managed to located it. Though he was quite sure that, if left to her own accord, she would have eventually. She was wrapped in his coat, eyes dazed and downcast, but was walking rather steadily after her initial shock.

"Here," he gave her a nudge. "Sit down."

"That's a coffin, Dad."

He chuckled softly. "Are you really surprised?"

Anessa shook her head and sat down on the lid of his coffin, pulling his coat tighter around her body as he lit a candle and poured her a glass of the only beverage he kept in his room.

"Here, drink this. And don't tell your mother I gave it to you."

She eyed it suspiciously, but took it and sipped, smiling a little as she did. "It's good. What is it?"

"Medical blood," he replied, and stepped out of the way gracefully as she sprayed a mouthful.

"What!"

Alucard sat down next to her. He had expected her to move away, or flinch when he touched her. But she did neither. And, much to his surprise, she took another drink from the glass after a lengthy pause. Neither made an effort at eye contact as they sat side by side. He had allowed his eyes to regress to their natural color.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed. "It's not that simple. There's just too much to explain and there was never a right time to do it."

"You and mom…"

"It's complicated."

"What am I?"

He had expected that question for years, and no matter how many times he's rehearsed the answer in his head, he couldn't say it right. Alucard looked at his daughter and touched her face. She looked so much like both Integra and himself.

"You're a miracle," he said. "The child of a nosferatu and a human. It was thought to be impossible throughout history, and yet here you are. Not only are you the last of Hellsing, you are also the last of the Tepes line."

"Vlad Tepes."

"Count Dracula. I had many names."

She tapped the glass with her nail. "I still want to know why you couldn't just tell me. I spent twelve years thinking you didn't want to be near me because you didn't want me, or because you were ashamed of me, or because you weren't interested in me."

Those words hurt. But it had to be said. "I couldn't let the heir of the top vampire-hunting vampire be associated with a vampire. I am a servant of this house, and your mother is my master, just like her father was. I'm a monster. To be connected to me would have been poison to your future."

"But you're _not_ just a vampire," replied his daughter. "You're _the_ vampire. You're the only known nosferatu in history. And you're my father."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him.

"I just wanted to be near you."

He kissed her forehead. "I know. I'm sorry."

They sat in silence for a while, until Anessa asked, "so I'm really half vampire?"

He chuckled. "I'm afraid so. Actually, maybe a little more than half considering…"

"What?"

He cleared his throat. "That's not important. The point is you are. The blood of a vampire flows through your veins."

"Then why am I not allergic to garlic? And silver? And sunlight? And all that holy water Father Alex is always throwing around?"

Alucard shrugged. "Because I'm not, I suppose. Somewhere along the line I outgrew all those things and they no longer affected me. It's part of what separates me as a nosferatu."

"You can use magic, too, can't you?" She gazed at the flickering candle in thought. "You bewitched the wall so people who know can get through."

He shook his head. "There's nothing magical about that wall. You walked through because you could. You've inherited quite a bit more of my abilities than I expected. I didn't think you'd be able to phase through solid objects until you're at least sixteen."

Anessa's eyes brightened. "What else can you do?"

"Lots."

"Can I do them, too?"

"Not all of them, but who knows? Maybe you'll learn in time. You've already got a nose like a bloodhound, and you could see your mother's memories because your telepathy has developed over time. Humans and weaker vampires cannot pick up such weak remnant brainwaves."

She giggled. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, one she hadn't made since she was six. "This is cool."

"This is also a lot of responsibility. Even more now that you've learned the truth." He looked down at her hopeful eyes. For the first time in years, she was smiling at him. His heart, though dead as it was, felt lighter than it had in a decade. "Well, you'll pick it up as you go. No point in going into it now."

"How come I don't drink blood?"

"When was the last time you went more than three days without a rare steak?"

"Oh." She paused. "My eyes aren't red."

"When you were a baby, they turned red under moonlight. I haven't had the chance to check in a couple of years."

She hopped to her feet and grabbed his hand. "Then let's go check!" she exclaimed. "Let's go outside!"

He smiled. "I'll do you one better."

He wrapped his arms around her and phased through the walls, heading upward. She was whooping with joy and excitement as they emerged on the roof. The moon was full. She stood beneath its silver light and gazed upward at it. The height didn't seem to bother her, nor the night. She was completely at ease in it, allowing the night air to fall around her like a blanket.

"Are my eyes red, Dad?"

He watched her, lost in a trance at her beauty. She was both he and Integra, lovely and perfect in every way. Vampire and human, with the best of both worlds.

"Dad?"

He went to her and lifted her chin. Her eyes were red as the setting sun.

"Yes, they're red."

She grinned. "Just like yours, Dad."

oOo

They spent much of the night on the roof, sitting side by side under the full moon. He told her stories, many of them he hadn't even thought about in decades, centuries. To tell them gave him a strange feelings, as if they no longer mattered. His past no longer mattered now that he was here with his beautiful daughter.

He told her about his time as a soldier for the faceless God in the 1400's, his journey to England, and his tangles with the Hellsing family. He told her about the experiments done on him, his early missions, and listening to Van Helsing dictate his story to Bram Stoker and later requesting a different ending to the tale, the one that illustrated his death.

Then World War II, and Walter, and his servitude under the shrewd, intelligent, obnoxious Arthur Hellsing. Anessa had pulled out the photo in her pocket, and laughed at the embarrassment on Alucard's face after he explained, a bit awkwardly, who Walter's "girlfriend" really was.

"Why did you take that form?" she asked after the fit of giggles finally subsided.

"Form means little to me," he told her. "Humans place a lot of emphasis on what is physical, but really it isn't as important as they think. When one can take on any form they please, they will use whichever one that is the most advantageous, depending on the situation."

"Why was looking like a girl advantageous back then?"

He shrugged. "Walter was fourteen. I was bored."

She made a gagging sound. "Don't tell me you two…"

He waved her off. "No, nothing like that. When we met, I thought it would be funny to see how long before he figured out I wasn't a girl. Mind you, he was quite persistent for a while, flirting with me and sneaking me presents. If he ever tells you otherwise, he's lying."

"How long did it take him to figure out?"

"Never did. After a couple of months following me around, your grandfather caught on to what I was doing and told him. It was too bad. There wasn't a lot I could do for fun back then."

He told her about his first battle against the vampire Nazi regime, then the second, with Integra at his side. He also recounted his first meeting with "Father Alex", which, in retrospect, seemed very, very funny.

"You and Father Alex were once enemies?"

"Still are, if you get down to it."

"It seemed like you've been friends all your lives."

"It's kind of a hassle to fight all the time when you have to live under the same roof. I suppose you can say we've grown bored of each other. In the Median underground his nicknames still float around, just like Walter's."

"What nicknames?"

"He had a lot of them. Killing judge, angel dust, Judas…"

"Is there anyone I grew up with who _didn't_ used to be an assassin of some sort?"

"I don't think the police girl actually managed to kill anyone before I turned her. Although she once told me she stuck someone in the eye with a fork when she was little."

"Police girl? Miss Victoria?"

He told her about Cheddar, Seras Victoria's choice, and the mild satisfaction he got when he sensed just a hint of jealousy from Integra.

"You and mom… you really love her."

"Ever since I laid eyes on her."

"But you can't get married."

"I suppose you can say it's forbidden, taboo, which is just as well. In a lot of ways, based on who I am, it's still a bit humiliating to have fallen so hard for my enemy's descendant."

She considered this. "How romantic, like Romeo and Juliet."

"More like beauty and the beast."

In the end, after all of her questions were exhausted, he told her about his desire, his one wish. At first it was a bit uncomfortable, talking to her about her mother in such a way. But she listened, taking in every word in all seriousness.

"Is she unhappy?"

Alucard let his eyes wander to the horizon. The sun will rise soon. "To be honest, I'm not sure. She loves her work, wants more than anything to carry the legacy of her family. But it's killing her slowly, and she's sacrificed so much for it. I always fear that if this kept up, she'll be worn down eventually, and die much earlier than she should."

"Then what would happen?"

"You become master of the house. I have no doubt that you will make an excellent vampire hunter and leader. You have her spirit in you."

"That's not what I mean." She was looking at him earnestly with her sapphire eyes. "I mean what would happen to _you_?"

"I will serve you," he said slowly. "As will Anderson. He's been off the killing fields for a while now. There was a time when he ran an orphanage for the Catholic church. Part of him always missed the children. After you were born, he volunteered to stave off his usual job to educate and care for you. But I know he's aching to get back to it. Seras will follow your orders also. You've got yourself quite a group of killers."

She was still looking at him, waiting for him stop dodging the question, no doubt. He wringed his hands.

"I will spend the rest of eternity mourning her."

Silence fell over them. Alucard rose to his feet and helped Anessa to hers, then brought them both back down to the dungeons.

"What do I do now, Dad?"

"I know what I'm going to do," he said, pushing the lid off his coffin. "I haven't had a good day's sleep since you turned two. I'm going to bed."

She grinned. "O.K. How do I get out?"

"The same way you came in. Go find your mother and tell her what happened. Remember, don't tell her I gave you blood. She doesn't want you drinking that stuff."

Anessa studied the walls around her and went to the nearest. She tossed one last look back at him before walking through it. Pride swelling in his chest, Alucard settled down for a long-waited and well-deserved rest.

oOo

Seras yawned and stretched. It had been something of a dull night. The usual drills, the minor disturbances. Nothing's exciting anymore. Sometimes she almost wished that something would happen, maybe someone would stir up another rebellion and she'd be able to fight as she used to. But then memories of the war and its atrocities would come drifting back, and she'd once more feel thankful for the boredom.

She laid on her bed. For a over a decade now she had slept in a bedroom on the second floor, though a coffin lid still lowered over her bed when she rested. This arrangement was mostly for Anessa's benefit. In a lot of ways Seras was glad to be in a normal bedroom, God knows her master couldn't handle sleeping like a human. But it was still strange, having to hide the fact that she slept in a coffin just as she was getting used to it.

She closed her eyes and reached for the button by the bed. Dawn was coming and she wanted to get in a few hours of sleep before getting up to check on Anessa. Just as the lid started to drop a body fell onto the bed beside her.

Startled, she hastily pressed the button again. The lid stopped in its tracks, paused, and raised back up again. Turning, she saw the resident princess lying next to her, watching the coffin lid rise with amusement.

"I knew it was a coffin."

Seras considered sitting up, but there wasn't any room. "Wha…" she managed to say.

"It's OK," said Anessa. She was smiling, and her clothing was wrinkled, as if she'd being up all night fumbling about somewhere. "Dad told me everything."

It took Seras a moment to process this.

"But I always knew," continued the girl. "I knew you were different. He told me about how he turned you, and brought you here."

"Oh," was all Seras could manage. She studied Anessa, who wore a serene look on her face, as if she'd just solved a huge mystery. Though in a way, Seras supposed, she had. She turned onto her side and face the girl, who did the same. In the dark they looked like two friends sharing secrets at a slumber party. "So what do you think?"

"I think it's nice."

"Nice?"

"Yea," Anessa nodded. "I always wanted a sister."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: first, I wanna say that it's really interesting and cool that people are offering suggestions on how this story should go. I appreciate that. However, I already finished writing this story a while ago, so there's not really much room for change. I will consider taking challenges, however.

Second, I expect some controversy regarding the conversation between Annie and Integra in this chapter. Some may argue that Integra would never, NEVER consider ever a little bit the option of relinquishing her humanity, but that is not my view. I believe that Integra has indeed fulfilled her duty by producing a capable heir and that the option, in this context, is open. Whether she takes it is to be seen, but the possibility is there.

As far as Arthur goes, just know that in the prequel to Hellsing, The Dawn, he was obnoxious an drank like a fish. Not to mention the prostitutes.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 11

Her education as the true heir of Hellsing began two months before she turned thirteen.

Instead of Father Alex, her teacher was now her father, whom she viewed in a new light of respect and admiration. There was no denying her heritage, nor did she want to. Though knowing the controversy it could cause in the future, she embraced it. Humans in general are blind. They knew little and what they didn't know they preferred to ignore. But Anessa Hellsing had two pairs of eyes with which to see the world, and it was absolutely amazing.

The wall to the dungeons were broken down and she was given free reign of it. Her mother had taken her hand and given her something of a tour. She pointed out the air ducts in which she spent many hours hiding from her uncle, whose name was Richard, and the rooms where experiments were done on her father by the generations before. A chill ran down her back as bits and pieces of images entered her head while she stood in those rooms. Memories never die.

There were more photos to look at, many of her mother at a young age, with her father by her side. Anessa flipped through them, examined them, these steps that her mother took as she was pushed into adulthood by the harsh hand of reality.

Her father, the No-Life King Alucard, had never changed. Wherever her mother was, he was there, always two steps behind, armed and ready to protect and serve. There he was on her first day meeting with the Convention of Twelve, and again on the day she was knighted by the Queen at nineteen. She once asked him whether he resented his servitude to the family at one point, and he answered yes, but that he did not regret it.

She spent many late nights talking with her Father in the dungeons by candlelight. Perhaps it was the vampire in her, but darkness felt more and more comforting. He taught her things about vampires not known even to many vampire hunters outside of the mansion. He showed her how to distinguish one type of vampire from another on sight, and select the appropriate weapon based on that information.

When her mother's back was turned, he taught her how to use those weapons. There were just so many at her disposal.

He showed her how to travel via walls and ceilings, how to melt into shadows and sneak up on an opponent, and what to do if, by chance, the opponent could do the same. He taught her how to shoot aiming with her "third eye", how to defend short-range attacks, and how to tame wild animals that could serve as spies. Her mother didn't approve of such things, but Anessa had a feeling that she knew about them and simply turned a blind eye to it.

She also began to hang around the Convention members more often. Whenever they came around to meet with her mother, she would impose herself on at least one of them and ask questions until their tongues knotted. They were really quite silly, she realized, these men in power. They presume to know so much but really knew so little. Her mother, the famed Sir Integra Hellsing, was really quite lenient towards them, humoring them quite a bit. Perhaps having a bit too much of her father in her, Anessa made mental notes of each man's weak points and planned to exploit them in one way or another.

Though having quite the high standard to live up to, she faired more than well. When she hit fourteen her presence commanded absolute attention in a room. She was tall and a bit more shapely than most girls her age, spoke like the well-read, well-traveled young woman that she was, and often held length conversations with those several times her age. Therefore, it wasn't surprising when the marriage proposals began to pour in.

In the circle of high-class socialites, it wasn't uncommon for girls as young as five to receive marriage proposals, usually sent to their parents by other parents. Young men are taught to court young ladies as young as eleven to secure a profitable marriage for the future. Integra herself would have caught the eyes of many young men had her father raised her like a usual, run-of-the-mill pampered belle.

Every bit as beautiful as her mother, and adorned with her father's quirk and wit, Anessa drew boys to her like bees to honey. Unlike her mother, she rather liked to doll herself up a bit, wearing layers of black and red in a tasteful gothic style, and ruffled skirts that were just a hair too short. Truth be told, she had little interest in the simpering socialite boys. She had simply learned that showing a little skin often threw them off balance and made taking control a little easier.

Naturally, as Tricia Wellington hated Integra, the painted young girls of the court hated her. She was wild and untamable, her mannerisms bold and fresh, standing out among them like a wild rose in a garden of dandelions. They jeered at her, gossiped about her, cut her out of their conversations and games. Anessa didn't care. There were more important things waiting for her. She asked that Walter treat her marriage proposals as junk mail unless they included chocolate.

The only boy she gave the slightest attention to was Seth, who himself was receiving quite a bit of attention, having become rather dashing as he entered his teen years.

oOo

She held the Casull in both hands and aimed carefully. Alucard corrected her stance and posture. The target was far, too far for the human eye to see.

"You're shooting like a human again," he scolded. "Use your third eye."

"I am _half human_, Dad. How do I know I even have a third eye?"

"If the police girl has one, you have one. Do what feels natural."

She took a deep breath and let it out. The target appeared in her mind, floating as if right in front of her. She squeezed the trigger slightly, lined up the crosshair, and pulled.

Bull's eye.

Her father nodded in satisfaction. "Good. But on a battlefield you won't always have the privilege of taking time to aim. You have to be faster, open your third eye as if it's second nature." He stepped forward and took one of her hands off the gun. "Shoot with one hand."

The gun wasn't heavy, at least not to her, but it was large and bulky. She wavered. He corrected her again. She breathed deep and fired. It hit the target an inch right of the bull's eye.

"Good. Just takes practice."

She smiled. "When do I get to shoot the Jackal, Dad?"

"When you're older."

"When will I be older?"

"When your mother says so."

She lowered the gun and flipped the safety switch to "on". Having complete confidence in his control of the weapon, her father had never bothered with it. After a few stern lectures from her mother, however, he began to insist that she always took care to mind the safety. "I have to go now. Seth is coming over."

Alucard took the gun from her, disapproval in his eyes. "Must you allow that… child to hang around you? He is no better than his father."

Anessa cocked her head. "I think he's a gentleman compared to his father. Much better than that other boy."

"Which one?"

"The one that tried to corner me last month at Lord Byron's house. It was gross. He was eighteen, and he was trying to put his hand under my dress."

Her father made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl. "Why didn't I know about this?"

She chuckled. "You didn't go to that party, Dad, remember? You told mom you rather be nailed in a coffin filled with holy water. I went with Mom and Father Alex. But don't worry. I took care of him."

"Is that why your mother received that letter from Lord Byron?"

"I actually thought he'd do more than send a letter after I pushed his oldest son down a flight of stairs."

Alucard started to laugh, caught himself, and disguised it as a cough instead. Somewhere in his head a void told him he shouldn't encourage that sort of behavior from his daughter, but it was buried under a mountain of pride.

"Don't do it again," he muttered unconvincingly.

"Unless we're on a balcony?"

"Ye… No! Next time just tell him you're not interested."

She gave him a wink before walking off. "You and I both know that if words took care of everything there wouldn't be a job for you, Dad."

Seth was waiting for her in the drawing room. He had grown taller, and his features were becoming a bit more defined. At fourteen they were both of the courting age by the unwritten rules of the elite. He had brought her a bouquet of yellow roses. A wise move, she mused. Red would have been much too obvious a gesture of romance.

"I told you I don't like flowers," she said teasingly as he blushed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It's just… you're so different from the other girls…"

"How many other girls are there?"

"I don't mean there's a lot of girls," he said quickly, stumbling over his own words. "I mean…"

She waved him off. Though it was entertaining to watch him try to impress her with suaveness and fail each time, she did have a bit of a soft spot for him and it was somehow less fun to watch him humiliate himself than it was others. She went to him and took the flowers out of his hand.

"Maybe my mom will like these." She tossed them carelessly aside. "Want to watch a movie? Seras has lots of old horror movies in her room. They're hilarious. We can even watch them in the basement. It's pretty creepy down there."

Seth shook his head. "Actually, I can't stay long. I came to ask you a question."

She could've probed his mind, but decided it was in bad taste. "You came all the way here to ask me a question?"

"I was wondering if you'd have dinner with me this Saturday."

Anessa shrugged. "If you want. Your place or mine?"

"I was thinking of a more formal setting."

She grinned slyly. "Are you asking me out?"

He blushed even harder and avoided her gaze. "Only if you want to," he replied. "I know you don't really like… I mean, the last guy who asked you out…"

"There's a difference between asking me out and feeling me up," she said, rolling her eyes. "I promise I won't push you down any stairs."

His eyes lit up. "Is that a yes?"

"I guess."

"Great." He approached her. "I'll pick you up at seven."

Then he did something she had only received from her parents and Walter. He kissed her on the cheek. It was a strange new feeling that she had never experienced before. She must have gone into a daze because for the first time in her life she didn't sense her father coming up behind her.

"Don't tell me you're falling for him."

She felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I don't know. It's nice to have someone my own age around, and he's much nicer than the other boys."

Alucard laid a hand on her shoulder. "Be careful."

"He wouldn't do anything, Dad. Nothing I can't handle."

Her father shook his head grimly. "That's not what I mean. Speaking as one vampire to another, beware of humans. They fear the unknown."

oOo

Integra lit a cigar and said, "you're picking up bad habits from your father."

Grinning, her daughter dropping from the ceiling and landed gracefully on her feet. She was a sight to behold, with the shadow of her Median half unable to quench the light in her eyes. Anessa walked over to the large mahogany desk and struck a posture very much like Alucard as she leaned against it.

"You're not supposed to smoke, Mom. Dad said you promised not to after I was born."

Integra smirked. "Much as I enjoy seeing you and your father forming a tighter bond, I don't need two people nagging me to give up the only thing that gets me through the day."

"I'm insulted."

"You know what I mean."

Anessa drew her knees up as she sat on the desk. "Does this life make you happy, Mom?"

"You sound like…"

"Like Dad," she interrupted. "I know. But I think I'm old enough to know if I'll be taking over a job that at least makes you happy. Otherwise why would I want it?"

Leaning back in her chair, Integra studied her daughter carefully. "You're trying to goad me into something, aren't you?"

The girl giggled. "Not at all, Mom. Don't be so suspicious."

"How can I not be? You _are_ your father's daughter. If I had a nickel for every time your father tried to trick me into something…"

"Does he still do it?"

"He _tries_."

Anessa tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "Then good thing I'm not trying. Does this life make you happy, Mom?"

Integra sighed. "Happiness is a relative term."

"Is that a 'no'?"

"It's a 'sometimes'." She puffed on the cigar. "To uphold the legacy of the family is my duty and goal. So far, be it luck or whatever else, I've been able to do it fairly well."

"That's an understatement."

"It never hurts to be humble."

"It also wouldn't hurt to admit to being better than the masses once in a while."

"I hear your father's cockiness in you."

Anessa shook her head vigorously. "This isn't Dad talking, Mom. This is me. I want to know if doing what you do makes you happy."

Integra took the cigar out of her mouth. "It makes me happy to rid the world of its enemies. Though I suppose there's no use in hiding the fact that having to do so within the restrictions of this stuffed-shirt government. There's still much evil to be rid of in this world, and none of it can be done without first turning in the proper paperwork."

"How troublesome."

"It is."

Anessa rested her head on her knee and eyed her mother with a crooked smile on her face. Integra put out her cigar. "What is it you really want to ask? I'm your mother. You needn't dance around the real subject on your mind. I can already tell you're working up to it."

"Alright," said her daughter. "I want to know why you refuse to choose freedom."

"You are asking why I don't just let your father turn me and walk out of this place."

"Something of that sort."

"I have a duty here – to uphold the legacy of the Hellsing family."

Anessa winked. "Actually, Mom, that duty is now mine. I am already older than you were when you took over, and you know I am fully capable of it any moment you choose to step back."

This was true. Integra had no arguments for that. "Let's say I agree," she said. "But that doesn't change anything. I am above all a servant to God, and God would not approve of such a thing."

"Would God approve of a half-vampire child?" Anessa hopped of the desk and spun in a circle. "Look at me, Mom. I know what I am. Half of me is supposedly heathen and wretched, forever cursed. But that won't stop me from protecting faith and country, will it? Just because I'm growing fangs doesn't mean I'm any less than the other servants of God."

"Anessa…"

"And humans and vampires aren't so inherently different. Drinking blood doesn't make one evil. After all, Catholics believe that bread and wine becomes the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ. The vampires who prey on innocent humans are no different from humans who prey on each other for the sake of power, money, lust… I believe you're surrounded by quite a few predators of that nature, Mom."

Integra smiled. She drummed her fingers on the desk lightly as Anessa talked. "Are you finished?" she asked in amusement a moment later.

"For the moment," replied her daughter mischievously.

"I don't know if Alucard put you up to this or if you think you're helping him in anyway, but you can't change my mind, love."

"I don't have to," said Anessa. "You never made up your mind to begin with."

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"Because if you'd made up your mind to never accept Dad's offer, I wouldn't be here." Anessa's eyes wandered up to the portrait of Arthur Hellsing hanging from the wall. "You would have subject yourself to a gentleman of the court and made sure your child was human. You would have ordered Dad to stay away from you, which he would do. But you didn't. You chose to have a half-vampire child by him, and to keep his company above all others. I think you allow him to love you because you know one day you'll be able to return it.

"Grandpa raised you to think for yourself. Isn't that right, Mom?" She fingered the edge of the portrait's frame. "If you think he wouldn't approve, I think you'd be wrong. You were never one for tradition, and I bet he wasn't neither. Dad told me about him. He seemed rather rough around the edge. If he was here, I think he'd agree with me that it's about time you had your freedom."

"And what of you?"

Anessa grinned. "You were right about me having Dad's cockiness. I think I can do better in your seat, or, at the very least, I'd like to have a chance to try."

Integra motioned for her daughter to come close. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me out of the way so you can take over."

"I want you and Dad to be happy, Mom. But I wouldn't mind killing two birds with one stone either."

Integra lifted a hand to caress her daughter's cheek. In so many ways she still saw Anessa as her little girl, her baby with blue eyes and black locks. But how true it was that she was also older than Integra herself was when she took over the family headship. And, if she was not mistaken, the young woman before her had much more confidence than she did back then.

"I'll think about it," she said, sealing it with a kiss on Anessa's forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready yet."

Anessa sighed dramatically. "At least you didn't say 'no'," she said.

"It'd a hard decision to make, placing freedom above duty."

Anessa squeezed her hand. "I told you, Mom, that duty is mine now. Your job was to see that the legacy lives on, and it will."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the only thing to address here is that Anessa is much more sexual than Integra, and thus would naturally be more aggressive in all things physical.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 12

Seras brushed Anessa's hair in front of her vanity. It was hard to believe how many years it's been. She still remembered her master cradling his baby girl in the nursery, complaining about diaper duty. The new Lady Hellsing was almost as tall as Seras now, and in a few years she'll probably look older than the police girl, too. Seras looked herself in the mirror. Sometimes it was hard to remember that she was only four years younger than the girl's mother.

"Your first date," she quipped, setting down the brush. "Are you excited?"

Anessa shrugged. "I've spent time with him before. How will this be different?"

"Because it's a _date_." Seras picked up the makeup kit on the vanity and began to paint the girl's eyes. "You need to look like a lady, and act like one, too. Sit up straight, bat your eyes, and don't say anything Master's taught you."

"My Dad's right, you know?"

"About what?"

"That being a vampire hasn't changed you one bit. You're still a girl."

Seras scowled. "There's nothing wrong with being a girl. Miss Integra is very pretty. She just likes to pretend that no one notices. And let me tell you, you cannot miss the way Master's eyes light up whenever she gets dolled up for a party."

"No lipstick," said Anessa, batting Seras's hand away.

"But it matches your eyes so nicely."

"My eyes change color. It won't match once we're outside."

Seras snapped her fingers. "Oh yes! That reminds me." Fumbling in the vanity's top drawer, she pulled out a small container. "Put these on. You don't want to scare him off."

Ever since Anessa found out the truth about her "family", Seras had opted to go without colored contacts. They were such a hassle, after all. Plus they had to be replaced every time she got shot in the head.

"He won't be scared," said Anessa confidently. "Seth is my friend. He won't care if my eyes turn red."

Seras opened her mouth, then closed it. She laid the container in Anessa's hands. "Just take it with you," she said. "Just in case."

Somehow the case felt very heavy in her hands. Anessa looked up at Seras, the vampire who could be considered her sister in more ways than one. "Does being a vampire make you lose faith in humanity?"

Seras smiled thinly. "Not at all," she replied. "But being a vampire means crossing a line into the unknown, and humans fear the unknown with all their hearts."

"That's just what Dad said."

"But we have no lost faith in it. Don't misunderstand. We still spend our lives protecting humanity, even though it is now forever beyond our reach."

oOo

Seth didn't bring her flowers this time. He picked her up in a limo and was smart enough not to overdress. Although he did wear a tie, which bothered her to no end. As soon as they climbed into the back of the limo she reached over, unknotted it, and threw it aside. He was surprised, and she sensed that he was also disappointed that she didn't do more.

He was polite and courteous, something she had long ago figured out that he _didn't_ inherit from his father.

"You look beautiful," he told her on the drive to the restaurant.

Seras had picked out a powder pink dress that she refused to wear. Her mother recommended pants. Her father was quite adamant that she take his coat, which she knew was just another way for him to spy on her, making sure Seth didn't make an inappropriate move, and that she didn't break any bones if he did. Walter said anything a young lady wears should hang at least an inch below the knee while sitting.

In the end she had shut them all out of her room and picked a red sweater and black skirt. Seras dug up a pair of heels for her, insisting that she shouldn't wear chunky boots with every outfit like she usually did. Somehow, the ensemble turned out better than she expected, judging by the way Seth was staring at her. She considered tossing her hair back and saying "I know", but felt a blush on her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said instead.

He smiled and the tip of his fingers brushed her hand. It wasn't like her to be nervous, nor be at a loss for words, but as the scenery of London rushed by outside, Anessa found herself out of words for the first time in her life. Did her mother ever go on a first date in her busy life? Or was her father the first? She didn't know. Integra had never educated her in matters of love. After all, there weren't a lot of people who shared the experience of having a vampire for companion.

The restaurant was quaint and lovely, and made her feel slightly underdressed. A hostess with a flowery accent seated them and took drink orders. Seth ordered wine and asked for candles to be brought to their table.

"Aren't we too young for wine?"

He winked. "Not at all. Young men and women in our circle drink and smoke at a much earlier age than most. It's part of the requirement for sophistication."

The wine arrived. Anessa didn't even both to try pronouncing its name. A well-dressed waiter, groomed mustache strategically concealing his thin lips, poured two glasses for them. She took one, sipped, and made a face. It tasted like sewage.

"This is awful," she told the waiter, who made a dissatisfied grunt in the back of his throat. "Get me some tea."

Seth chuckled as the waiter left. "I've never seen anyone talk to that guy that way."

"You know him?"

"My father's brought me here plenty of times. That guy is the head waiter and no one dares to offend him."

"How silly," said Anessa, rolling her eyes and drinking from the glass again absently. "Oh god this is gross."

The waiter brought her of English tea in a pot and a discontented look on his face. Anessa ignored him and opened the menu just as a tickling sensation entered her mind. She fought the urge to grimace.

_Get out of my head, Dad._

_I'm just checking in._

_Did Mom tell you to?_

There was a pause. _If it were up to your mother I'd be dragging you home by the collar right now. She's convinced that boy will paw you like his father paws her._

_Seth isn't like that._

_Speaking as someone who's spent five centuries as a MAN…_

_Dad!_

The waiter's mustache twitched in impatience. "Has the lady decided?"

"Yes," she said firmly, shutting her father out. "I'll have a steak. Rare. I want it alive and kicking. Don't drain the blood."

The waiter arced a brow but said nothing. A woman with too much makeup at the next table tossed over a disgusted glance that Anessa caught with a hint of satisfaction. This was going to be most entertaining. Seth poured tea for her as they waited for their food. He looked very handsome in luminous candlelight.

"Have you been on many dates before?" she asked him.

"A few," he said, then quickly added, "but only because my father arranged them. You're the first one I actually asked out."

There was a twinge inside her. Jealousy? Maybe, but hard to tell. "I'm honored," she said, stirring her tea.

"Is this your first? Your mother seems like she's pretty stringent."

"That she is."

"I guess it's to be expected though, considering your family's business." He was touching her hand again on the table, but very subtly. "Are you really going to be the next vampire hunter after her?"

The words "vampire hunter" sent a shockwave coursing through her body. Ever since discovering her true heritage, the word "vampire" had been a rather touchy issue. After all, her father was what he hunted, and Anessa herself was beginning to develop a slight hint of fangs. She estimated that by the time she was sixteen, she should have a full-grown pair. Her father had taught her how to retract them if needed, although it was quite the uncomfortable thing to do.

She looked at Seth. Humans hate vampires. Would he hate her if he found out what she was? Did it matter?

"Do you know much about vampires?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Not a lot besides what most people read from stories. I'm sure you know more than me."

"What do you think of them?"

"I'm not sure." Seth shrugged. "I know they're dangerous and prey on humans. They're supposed to be evil and serve the devil and things like that. But I mean, Hellsing supposedly has vampire servants, right? They help humans, too. So I guess they can't be all bad."

Anessa smiled. "There are very intelligent vampires. They have morals and brains and honor, and they despise the low-level vampires who give them a bad name."

"Really?" One of his fingers roamed over hers. "I didn't know there were so many kinds. I guess those don't get out much."

"They're too smart to cause trouble like the cheap vampires do."

"Maybe I'll meet one someday."

Their food arrived, a little too quickly in Anessa's opinion. The meat was indeed done to her satisfaction, blood seeping out and slowly covering the plate. She could smell it, so very enticing, but slightly dampened by the scent of the garlic mashed potatoes. She pushed the potatoes aside with her fork. It wouldn't kill her, but she didn't want to spend her first date with Seth holding back her hair as she puked out her guts either.

Seth looked a little green as she ate the bloody steak, mopping up the blood with bread after the meat was gone.

"If I didn't know better," he joked, "I'd think you were a vampire yourself."

She gave him a smirk.

oOo

He put his arm around her after they got into the limo. It was a warm, respectful gesture that made her blush just a little. Seth asked the driver to take them somewhere quiet, which turned out to be a large park, mostly deserted at this time of night.

He rolled down the window and let the evening breeze waft over them. There was a good view of the city from where they were, and music was drifting from the distance. Perhaps a band was playing in a diner somewhere out of view.

"It's pretty out here," she said. Seth was leaning closer to her, brushing her long hair out of the way.

"I thought you're like it," he said, and kissed her. Not directly on the lips but on the corner of her mouth. She was surprised, but found herself giggling instead of pulling away. He kissed her again.

Hazily, she heard the driver open the car and step out. He must not have wanted to stick around to watch the two kids. She smelled tobacco. The man was having a smoke outside. Seth pulled her close.

_Careful…_

_Dad! Quit it!_

She must have flinched, because Seth backed off. "I'm sorry," he said. "Did I…"

"No, it's OK." She wrapped her arms around his neck and slammed the door on her father's voice.

He started to kiss her, to touch her again. She liked the feeling of his fingers on her neck, back, and even her legs. She kissed him back eagerly. It was such a feeling of release after being cooped up in the sterile mansion all her life. She reveled in the touch of a real boy.

The limo shook.

She ignored it. Seth looked up a bit as it shook again. He sat back. Anessa gave him a disappointed look.

"What's wrong?" she asked teasingly.

Before she even finished that sentence, however, her vampiric senses perked up. It was completely dark outside now, but she could see just fine. Suddenly, she was very aware of her surroundings as she sat up. Seth was breathing a bit harder than usual in apprehension. Her muscles tightened just a bit, as if in anticipation of something.

The limo shook again with a thump. Something heavy had landed on the roof. They both looked up at the same time. There was a scraping sound from above.

"What's going on?" she heard Seth mutter as he reached for the door. She grabbed his hand.

"Don't," she said firmly, and raised a finger to her lips as he opened his mouth to speak. She pointed up. The scraping sound came again, followed by what sounded like garbled words. There was also a smell…

It was followed by a ear-piercing scream that made Seth jump. Anessa stayed put. Her nails were digging into the seat as her mind raced. Her father had said "careful", but seems he wasn't referring to Seth at all. She could hear Seth's heart pounding, while her own remained much too calm.

"What was that?" he gasped.

"Your driver's dead," she told him calmly. "Lock the doors."

He did as she asked without a word, for which she was relieved. This would be much harder if he started asking questions. She took a deep breath. _I can do this_…

Seth was already reaching for a phone attached to the limo's door just as a ghastly gray face pasted itself to the glass. He cried out and drew back as the vampire bared its fangs and thumped on the window. Anessa heard it hiss.

Seth grabbed her hand. She squeezed it. "Don't come out no matter what," she said.

He stared at her. "What do you mean? We have to call for help."

"The cops can't do anything." She released his hand and moved towards the door on her side. "Stay in here."

"Don't unlock the door!"

"I'm not," she said, and phased through it.

There were three of them. She was aware of it as soon as she stepped out of the car even though two of them were hidden from view. It was a bit chilly and the ground was uneven. She kicked off her heels and tossed them under the car. Seth was still inside. She hoped he was smart enough to stay out of the way.

There was one on top of the limo, a tall male.

Another that was rounding the side of the car, coming towards her.

The third was behind her. She could smell its rank breath.

The driver was indeed dead. He laid in a bloody mess a few yards away. His eyes were still open, a cigarette in his mouth. Anessa said a quick prayer for the poor man. The vampires surrounded her. They weren't exactly of the highest caliber, but they weren't common mongrels either. After all, they still looked human enough.

"How chivalrous your boyfriend is," said the tall male, how seemed to be the leader, "putting our his girl as bait."

Anessa swallowed. Both nervousness and excitement coursed through her. "I'm the bait alright," she said. "But I don't think you'd be able to swallow me."

"Cocky," said the vampire. "You're a virgin, aren't you? This will be fun."

She flexed her fingers and wished for a moment that she wasn't wearing a skirt. No matter. She could take them. After all, she was…

One lunged at her. She sidestepped and dodged out of the way. Its fangs snapped the air an inch from her face. She spun, caught its arm in mid-air, and pinned it against the limo. It half-screamed, half-growled in surprise.

_Head and chest._

She grabbed the back of its head and drove it into the ground. It burst like a ripe melon. Part of her protested the fact that there was now blood all over her nice sweater.

The remaining two bared their fangs and hissed. Anessa grinned. Though she had picked up plenty of battle scene from her father and Seras's minds, the feeling of sleek blood between her fingers was a first. There was exhilaration in it that was beyond description. Did her mother feel this way when she turned that gun on her uncle?

Then she smelled fear. The two vampires were afraid now, because they didn't expect to meet a real opponent, not when attacking two horny teenagers in a parked car. They were debating whether to run or take a chance. She could tell. Slowly, remembering her father's lessons, she lowered herself to the ground to make for a smaller target.

_The best defense is a good offense._

She sprinted forward, pushing off the ground with her foot, and drove her hand like a spear through the chest of the nearest vampire. The tall male dove out of the way as she yanked her hand back. Blood sprayed from the vampire's chest like a fountain.

_Messy,_ she thought. _Dad would say I didn't line up my fingers right._

The last one made a move to run. She stepped into its way. They stared each other down as the moon climbed above them. The vampire's eyes widened as her pupils turned the color of blood.

"You… you're one of us!" he exclaimed.

She scoffed. "Don't lump me with you."

"Are you…" he panted. "Are you the one they speak of? The No-Life King who hunts his own?"

"Nope," she said with a grin. "I'm the princess."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It was lots of fun doing a poll during the last story, so maybe I should do one for this one, too. Raise your hand if you think Integra will accept Alucard's offer. Cluck like a chicken if you think she won't.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 13

Integra eyed her daughter's blood-stained clothing and sighed.

The girl was grinning, showing off her budding fangs. Sometimes Integra paused to wonder whether her daughter was a bit _too_ much like Alucard. She took a deep breath and fought the urge to reach for a cigar.

"Alright," she said slowly. "What did you do with the Conningwell boy?"

Anessa started to answer, but her father cut in, walking through the side wall of the office. "The priest is looking after him," he said. He had not even bothered to hide the proud smile on his face. "He's a bit shaken up, but he'll live. If he doesn't…" He shrugged nonchalantly. "No big loss."

Anessa scowled. "Dad!"

"He's not good enough for you."

"He's nice and I like him."

Integra raised a hand. "Stop it, both of you. There are other things to worry about right now. What do we do when that boy runs to his father babbling that the girl he took out on a date killed three vampires?"

Alucard's grin broadened. "I think you're missing the big picture here," he said, and walked behind Annie, laying his hands on her shoulders. "Our daughter has done something extraordinary today, both as a human and as a vampire. She has drawn first blood. It's a rite of passage."

Though she didn't want to admit it, Integra knew deep down as she looked at her daughter that she was proud. It was an odd thing to be proud of, but they were an odd family to begin with. Knowing her daughter had the ability to stand up to danger warmed her heart in the most unexplainable way. It must be how Alucard had felt as he watched Integra herself turn a gun on her uncle.

"Perhaps," she said. "But that doesn't help to explain this ordeal to the Convention. This could cause slander to be laid upon the Hellsing name. What do you suggest I say when the Convention members ask about the truth regarding her birth?"

"Nothing."

She raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

Anessa stepped forward. "You don't have to say anything, Mom. Because I will be the one addressing them."

"What are you talking about?"

Alucard rounded her desk slowly. She eyed him in suspicion. There was something about him tonight, his posture and the way he looked at her. He took her hand and gently stood her up, out of her chair. Then, to her surprise, he kissed her cheeks, first one then the other. She looked at him, then at her daughter. Their eyes were the same, cool and collected, betraying nothing.

"I've been waiting for this day."

Integra felt heat rise to her face and neck as he slipped a hand around her waist. Anessa rolled her eyes, the way most teens do when their parents displayed signs of affection.

"What day?"

"The day when you finally make your decision."

"You're not making sense."

He kissed her forehead. "Do you remember what you did after you drew _your_ first blood? After you shot your pond scum of an uncle in the face?"

"I threw up."

He chuckled. "Well, not _right_ after. You succeeded the family headship. When I say it's a rite of passage, I truly mean that. You completed it to step into the shoes of your father, and now your daughter has done the same."

She looked at Anessa again, at the confidence and glory radiating from the girl's face. "You mean…"

"You once told me to trust her, didn't you? I do. I trust she can do this job well, make a fitting leader of Hellsing." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You've given the prime of your life for this country, for your family's cause. This role you were thrust upon at birth has taken so much out of you. Isn't it time to consider what you want for once?"

With one hand he reached into his coat and removed several pieces of paper. Integra eyed them apprehensively. They each bore the royal seal of the Queen.

"What are those?"

"Paperwork for Anessa's succession. The Queen gave them to me nearly a decade ago. All it needs is your signature."

She started to speak, but he shushed her with a finger. Then, slowly, he stepped back and dropped onto one knee before her.

"I'm asking for real now," he said. "What's your answer, Lady Hellsing?"

She stared at him, then at Anessa, who was smiling and nodding at her. Their daughter… she was so beautiful.

oOo

Seth was shaking visibly when Anessa walked into the drawing room, but he seemed somewhat calmer. She nodded to Father Alex, who was unsuccessfully trying to get the boy to drink something warm. The priest shook his head grimly and left the two teens alone. Anessa sat down next to Seth, who eyed her uncomfortably.

"Are you OK?" she asked him.

"I guess so," he muttered.

She scooted a little closer and reached out to touch his hand. He flinched away, sending a bitter sting to her heart.

"What's wrong?"

"What are you?" he asked shakily. "Are you a vampire? Are you the other vampire they keep talking about?"

"No, I…"

"Are you even your mother's child?" the way he was looking at her made her feel two inches tall.

"I am my mother's child," she said. "I am Hellsing, but I'm more than that, too."

"What do you mean?"

She kneaded her skirt and avoided his gaze. "I'm half vampire," she said softly. "My father is the legendary nosferatu, perhaps you've heard his name."

"What name?"

"Count Dracula. Now the vampire Alucard."

Shock and disbelief played on Seth's face. She moved towards him a little more. "Does it matter?" she asked. "Do you still like me even though half of me is vampiric? You said you wanted to meet an intelligent vampire some time. That's me, Seth. I have the blood of a nosferatu."

He didn't answer, just sat there with his eyes focused on nothing at all. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He jerked involuntarily as she came close. His arm swung upward and caught her square in the face. It didn't really hurt, but the humiliation…

Seth started, as if surprised by his own actions.

"I'm… um…" he stammered, then turned away. He didn't want to say he was sorry, she saw, because in his eyes she was already something less than human. Biting back tears, she stood and walked out of the drawing room.

Her father waited outside. He wrapped a loving arm around her as she came out.

"Would you like me to erase his memory?" he asked her. "I could. He won't remember anything from tonight, and the two of you can start anew."

Her fingers tightened on his coat.

"Would you like that?"

"No," she said after a moment. "No, Dad. I don't want him to forget. If he loves me, he won't mind what I really am."

"What if he tells his father? The men of the Convention…"

"Will have to deal with it." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave him a smile. "I have the Queen's approval, don't I? And yours."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHOR'S NOTE: sorry this update took longer than usual. I've been kind of out of it lately. A few things to be addressed here.

the old man in this chapter is no one in particular. He's just there to offer a certain point of view.

And this is very IMPORTANT. I need you, as readers, to vote on whether you like Seth. The votes in his favor or against will affect his fate in the epilogue. I originally wanted to decided myself, but really can't.

Enjoy the story!

Chapter 14

Three months passed.

That seems to be the traditional amount of time for "something big" to happen, for some change to take place. Ninety days, twelve weeks, whatever one wishes to call it. That's how long it takes for word to spread, for rumors and news to sprout wings, for keys to exchange hands, for goodbyes to be said, for a cocoon to be built and broken, releasing the butterfly within.

Time went by, whether the world likes it or not. We could go into the details of it, the nit-picky things, the small bits that happened as the seconds ticked by. Babies were born, elders died, couples married and divorced, and life went on. Most of them still deny that vampires were real, and a very small percentage of what is left have ever heard of Hellsing. And about half of _those_ people received the news of Integra Wingates Hellsing's death.

She was about forty years old, and have served as the director of Hellsing for nearly three decades.

No, that is not a typo. She started her career at thirteen. Impressive, no?

She was a powerful, stubborn woman who practically won the last world war by herself. Just her, and her pet vampires.

Pet vampires?

Yes, she had two. There was the nosferatu Alucard, and a young woman, Seras Victoria.

She never wed, but had a daughter. No one knew who her father was, but there are rumors. Rumors not to be believed. Gossip travels in the elite circles after all, and some of them are simply false.

How old is her daughter?

Nearly fifteen. They say she is as strong as her mother and will be taking over the directorship. She has the support of the Queen, and even the soon-to-be king seems to cater to her whims. Integra Hellsing was like that.

How did such a strong woman die?

No one knows. Once again, there are only rumors. Some say that the nosferatu turned on her. After all, he had disappeared after the funeral. No one's seen him since. Some say she was ill and it took a toll on her health. Perhaps a heart condition from the stress of work. Some say it was murder by those who wished to usurp her position, but if that were true they must be sorely disappointed once they learned of her daughter.

What are the rumors regarding the girl's father?

Someone has said that he is the nosferatu, and that he had departed Hellsing after Integra Hellsing's death because he could not bear the pain of losing her. They say that the two have carried on a secret affair for years, and that the child belongs to them both.

Rumors are truly ridiculous, are they not?

oOo

Eleven men sat at the Round Table. It was true. Integra was dead. In many ways it was very hard to believe. How could a being made of pure steel and nerves stop breathing? But they were all at the funeral, and they had all gazed down at her lifeless body, topped by a single white rose. Her vampire had sat at the back of the procession, head dipped and making eye contact with no one. It was a sorrowful sight.

The bang of the opening door made them turn in unison. In walked the new director of Hellsing, followed by a young woman dressed in a pressed military uniform. They knew who she was. Seras Victoria, the commander of the Hellsing troops. Like the director, she looked no more than a child, but they knew better. They both had fire and experience in their eyes.

"Gentlemen," said Anessa Hellsing as she took her seat. "Welcome."

At that moment only one man at the table noted both the resemblance and difference she posed compared to her mother. This man was the only Round Table Knight who has yet to be replaced by a younger member. He studied her with tired, hazy eyes.

She had Integra's confidence and posture, and her eyes were just as blue. One look at her was enough to see that she _will_ get her way. It was just a fact.

But she was also different. Whereas her mother usually took to dressed like the rest of the men, this girl flaunted her curves in a form-fitting suit jack and short skirt. She walked on heels as if gliding on water, and batted her eyes when seeking attention. But none of this was meant to be cheap or flirtatious, he saw. She was merely making sure she used all the "weapons" at her disposal. Indeed, it was working, and he had to admit that if he himself were a few decades younger it would have the same effect on him.

He smiled inwardly.

Robert Cunningwell leaned a bit closer to the girl and put on a concerning face. "How are you, Anessa?" he asked as a parent would a child.

"I am well, Mr. Cunningwell," replied Anessa. "And if you could, I would prefer the you address me as Miss Hellsing, seeing how we are all associates now."

Cunningwell continued his act. "We know your mother's death must have been hard on you," he said. "If you need anything, any help at all, we…"

"That is very kind," said Anessa without offering him a glance. She made a gesture and the vampire Victoria stepped forward and handed her a stack of documents. She raised them for all to see. "In light of the recent social developments, there are some changes I would like to make. Most are political in nature, though some may be viewed as economical. There are some things that my mother left behind that I would like to finish. Then, of course, there is the current transition of power, with a new ruler coming to throne."

Not without amusement, the old man remembered Integra's first meeting. One of the men had whispered to another that perhaps the new Hellsing director should like a phonebook to sit on.

No one dared to whisper until Anessa was finished. For a moment he thought he saw a glint of red in her eyes.

"I trust there are no objections if we get straight down to business?" She winked and smiled sweetly. "It _is_ my first meeting. Please do offer me your guidance."

No one did. She didn't need any. Cunningwell tried to speak on her mother's death again, but quickly hushed up when she inquired about the current state of control his organization exercised on the local media.

As for Anessa herself, though she did not appear so, her heart pounded with apprehension throughout the entire meeting. She was not afraid of them. That wasn't the issue. Nor was she afraid of changes, of taking charge, or of making decisions. No, what she worried about was what Seth had said to whom since their last encounter.

Thoughts of him brought aches to her heart. Thankfully, the meeting broke up early enough. She exited the meeting hall with Seras, who immediately began to berate her for wearing such a short skirt as soon as they were out of earshot.

"It gets the job done," she countered. "Besides, I _know_ what you used to wear."

"That's different," said Seras, who had long traded her old getup for a much more dignified officer's uniform. "Besides, whether your father is here or not, I'm still your big sister, and I don't need to see those old men drooling over you."

"I think the two nearest to the door were drooling over _you_."

No matter what she wore, Seras had failed to find a way to minimize her ample cleavage.

Walter greeted them at Integra's old office. There are now two portraits on the wall, one of her mother next to her grandfather. They were equal in size and the frames were identical. In the picture, her mother was smiling ever so slightly.

Now walking with a cane but still fairly steady on his feet, the old butler gestured for her to approach the desk.

"You have a call on hold from the direct line, Miss Hellsing," he said. Anessa grinned.

"I know who that is," she said, picking up the phone. "Hi, Dad."

oOo

_In a hotel on the outskirts of England, inside a room checked out under the names "Mr. and Mrs. J. H. Brenner"…_

Alucard twirled a finger in the phone cord as his daughter chatted on about her first day at work. She was very excited, as young children tend to be, but she was also an adult now. A real woman. He could tell from her voice. Water was running the bathroom.

"Having fun, I see," he said. A pause. "Yes. I will tell her. And Annie…" he chuckled as the girl made a displeased sound. "I will call you that as long as I want. It's my privilege as your father. Listen, Annie. This is my final advice to you: never forget the royal blood that flow in you." He smiled. "I love you, too."

The water in the bathroom ceased as he hung up the phone. Integra emerged with a towel wrapped around her torso. Her long blond hair hung dripping from her shoulders. She was a sight to behold. Vampirism looked wonderful on her, as he always knew it would.

The signs of stress and aging had vanished over the last few months. The blue veins, crow's feet, and winkles disappeared without a trace. Her skin was once again smooth and soft. She moved with grace and her limbs were much stronger. She looked young again, the way she did twenty years ago, but without the lines of worry and frowns of agitation on her face. He watched her dry her hair.

"How is Anessa?" she asked.

"Having a ball. She wants me to tell you to relax, don't worry, and have fun."

Integra smiled thinly. She was still trying to adjust to her new existence. Part of her was still fighting the guilt of giving in, he knew, but she was coming to terms with it slowly. With each day that passed, she seemed to enjoy the moonlight a little more.

"Fun…" she whispered. "That's new."

He rose from the bed and went to her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her now-cold forehead. She leaned against him, giving in to his embrace. Her eyes were red now, which somehow complimented her features very well. But he missed her blue eyes. Who knows, maybe in time he could teach her to change their color.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know," she replied, raising her left hand to eye level. On her slender ring finger was a golden band. He had given it to her on the eve of her "death". "I still don't know. I never thought…"

"That you would wind up a vampire's bride? Do you regret it?"

"No," she said without hesitation. "I made my decision, didn't I? I chose you."

Faking her death had been surprisingly easy, though lying in the coffin through the funeral proved to be quite boring. His bite hadn't hurt, nor did the transformation. Feeding was a bit more difficult. He's still teaching her how to hunt, mostly other vampires. It was a simultaneously exciting and unnerving experience.

He led her to the bed and laid her upon it. She tossed the towel aside and, in all her glory, gave herself to him. He made love to her. It was the first for her, and the first in two centuries for him. Still, though there was a time when he had more than his share of both men and women alike, he knew it was never like this.

She was still so young, so inexperienced, so innocent and pure. He loved the way she blushed when he touched her bare hips and thighs, and the nervousness in her eyes. He loved her, loved everything about her. And now, he could spend the rest of eternity cherishing her.

When they laid side by side, wrapped up in each other, she kissed him, kissed him like a wife would her husband.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now we go somewhere," he replied. "We can go wherever you like. We can see the world, maybe take care of a few mongrels along the way, make our daughter's job a little easier. We are free now, both you and I."

She caressed his cheek. "I always wanted to see Romania. Perhaps your castle is still standing."

"Then that is where we will go first. Maybe in a few years we'll come back here and pay the family a visit. I'm sure old Walter will still be alive. He's too stubborn to die from old age."

Integra chuckled. She slipped her fingers through his.

"You've made your decision, Integra. How does it feel?"

She laid her head upon his chest. "Wonderful."

THE END… OF A NEW BEGINNING


	15. Epilogue

AUTHOR'S NOTE: there were enough votes in Seth's favor that I decided to keep him.

There have been some questions in regards to whether there will be another sequel, and the answer, sadly, is no. These two stories have been a big success and I am very grateful for that. However, I am currently running on a dry spell and not writing very much. In other words, I'm taking a hiatus from FFN. No new fan fictions for a while. (I'm sorry, don't pelt me with rocks please) That does not mean there won't be stories in the future. In fact, I have several ideas in the works, just no energy to write them down right now. I love all you people who have followed my stories, but please don't harass me for new stuff. I'll get back to it when I can.

This epilogue turned out WAY long. Enjoy it and review please!

EPILOGUE

It was a busy Saturday night on Broadway.

Patrons from all over the world flocked to the theatrical capital of the world, excitement on their faces. The streets were flooded with cars and well-dressed men and women. The air smelled of luxury and expensive cigars.

The usher of the Ambassador Theatre rolled his eyes. It was just another day of work for him.

The Ambassador Theatre was unusually crowded tonight with the opening of its brand new show. Though not really a theater buff himself, the usher, whose friends called him Mickey regardless of his protests, found himself a bit anxious about this show. It was a show different from the rest, with a dark theme and a new director, based on a hard-to-forget classic.

_Dracula_ was sold out for the next month.

Mickey straightened his uniform and escorted the theater-goers to their seats, handing them pamphlets as they went. The process was long and tedious, and he was just beginning to reach the end of the line when one of his buddies tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey man," said his friend. "You're in luck tonight."

Mickey closed the theater's doors as the last of the patrons entered. "I am?"

"Yep." His friend thrust a tray holding a bottle of champagne and two crystal goblets into his hand before he could refuse. "You're tending a private box tonight. Have fun!"

Then he was gone. Mickey looked at the tray in his hand and sighed. Tending private boxes was the worst job in the place. Sure, it sounds glamorous, pouring drinks for the high-class gentlemen and ladies while producing witty banter with a charming smile, but in reality it was difficult and just plain annoying. The rich had a habit of been pretentious, and along with that pretentiousness is the tendency to look down upon and under-tip the ushers. Usually those who rent private boxes were not the classy intellectual types from movies, but over-fed businessmen wish painted porcelain dolls (who usually wore way too much perfume) on their arms.

Mickey sighed and headed upstairs. A card on the tray read "Box 4, Mr. & Mrs. Van Haunsen". Box 4 was the best box in the house, he hoped at least those who would soon occupy it at least looked the part.

When he arrived at Box 4, the patrons had not yet arrived. He put the tray down and, noting there was not an ice bucket, went to retrieve one from the kitchen. When he returned, however, two figures had made their way to the Box. When they turned his way, he nearly dropped the ice bucket in his hands.

Before him was the most stunning couple he had ever laid eyes on, and after three years in a Broadway theater, he'd seen some stunning couples. But they were different, he could tell immediately.

The man was very tall, easily over six feet, and dressed from head to toe in midnight black, complete with an old-fashioned cloak that gave him an authoritative and mysterious air, not too unlike the Phantom of the Opera. His hair, unlike the oily do's of common rich nobles, was as black was his getup, and looked natural and wind-blown. Under his dark locks, Mickey could tell he was very handsome, if a bit pale, with sharp, distinct European features.

The woman was every bit as amazing as her husband. Though nearly a full foot shorter, she was in no way overshadowed by his presence. She wore a white low-cut silk gown that fell over her form like spilt milk. Her skin was absolutely flawless, as was her long, _long_ blond hair that fell all the way to her curvaceous hips. Her eyes were a piercing blue. Spotting Mickey down the hall, she lifted a hand and laid long, graceful fingers on her husband's arm.

"I believe that would be our usher," she said. There was something about her voice. Her accent was undoubtedly British, but something about her tone reminded Mickey of his uncle, who was a general in the U.S. Army in his better years.

Shuffling his feet, Mickey made his way to the Box and lifted the curtain for the couple to enter. The man nodded at him as he passed, but the woman favored him with a smile that made his knees week. Her beauty was enchanting.

The man helped his wife to her seat as Mickey poured champagne for the both of them, all the while watching their mannerisms out of the corner of his eyes. Everything about them was incredible. They walked as if on air, and spoke with a dignity and sophistication so rarely seen in today's society. At one point the man, Mr. Van Haunsen, asked his wife if she was cold, and had Mickey not seen his face first he would've thought it was the voice of a man in his seventies, aged by experience and intellect. But that couldn't be. Neither of them looked a day over thirty.

He set the champagne between them as the lights dimmed. The show was about to start.

"I will be right outside, Mr. and Mrs. Van Haunsen," he said, and bowed slightly. "Please let me know if you need anything."

"That will be all," said Mr. Van Haunsen. Mickey turned to leave, but the man stopped him. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a green bill. "I'm a little short tonight. Hope this is enough."

Disappointment tugged at Mickey a bit when he saw the number 5 on the surface of the paper. Small tippers, but that was natural. He nodded, smiled, and took the money.

It was not until the show was half way through, as he stood fidgeting with boredom in the hall did he pull out the money for a closer look, and felt his eyes widen at the two zeroes after the 5.

His fingers shook. Could it have been a mistake? Had Mr. Van Haunsen meant to tip him five dollars and pulled out a five-hundred dollar bill by mistake? His first instinct was to go inside and ask, then decided to wait until after the show, but then…

No.

Something about the couple told him that they knew exactly how much has been tipped. That's what was different about them. They had that air. That power of always knowing exactly what they were doing, exactly where they were going. That power that most people lack and don't even know they lack.

Mickey leaned over and peered at the amazing couple inside the box. The man was caressed his wife's hand lovingly and he could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

"Why you insisted on seeing this show is beyond me," he heard Mr. Van Haunsen say. "It's ridiculous. I never wore such flamboyant costumes."

"Of course not, love," said Mrs. Van Haunsen. "It would've scared away the prey."

"And the inaccuracies. I only had one bride, and if she looked anything like the ones up there, I wouldn't have left for England to begin with."

"As long as we're pointing out inaccuracies..." The woman stroke his arm teasingly. "We might as well begin with the most obvious. You can't carry a tune worth a pint."

oOo

The young soldier who barged into the office was barely out of his teens. He stumbled in his hurry and quickly straightened before the director's desk. "It's an emergency, Sir!"

Sir Anessa Elizabeth Cneajna Hellsing lifted her head and gazed at him evenly. Out of the corner of her mouth she smirked just a little at the surprise on the soldier's face. It was excusable, of course. She was used to it. After all, most of these trainees have yet to meet the director herself face-to-face. He was surprised that she was younger than him, she knew.

Still, she wasn't as young as she used to be, when her mother departed from the human world. She was older now, not only in age but the three years of experience as director had contributed greatly to her coming of age. Rolling her eyes at the soldier's flustered mannerism, Anessa lifted her boots off the desk and stood.

Today she was eighteen years old, but in this household a birthday was merely another workday. She was tall, even a bit taller than her mother was, with a waterfall of jet-black hair. Her sapphire eyes were deep and mature, as if she'd lived a hundred years in the body of a teenager. Under her figure-hugging silk blouse and black slacks, were a pair of extremely out-of-place army boots. Somehow, over the years, even after she abandoned her Lolita getup, they'd become hard to part with.

"What's the problem?" she asked. The soldier, who was still in the process of getting over his initial shock, quickly composed himself.

"The disturbance reported earlier this evening, S… uh, ma'am, I mean…"

" 'Sir' is fine," Anessa said bitingly. Like her mother, she had been knighted at seventeen. "Now speak up."

"Yes, sir!" said the soldier, sounding a bit more calm. "The problem seems to be more complicated than a simple disturbance."

"How so?"

"The vampires have taken hostage of a family. They demand negotiations of some sort."

Anessa crossed her arms in frustration. The Medians have become a bit smarter as their numbers dwindled in the area. Instead of out-right attacks they have organized and repeated attempted to obtain power of some sort, which usually ended in bloodshed. No amount of politics could change the fact that they were mongrels.

"We don't negotiate," she said coldly.

"But sir…"

"You make the mistake of thinking about them like humans," said the Hellsing director. "That is the common error made by new recruits. Vampires are now humans. They are monsters. They do not take pity on you even if you do them. If we negotiate, they will only kill the hostages after they get what they want, which is to gather their brethrens so they can kill even _more_ humans. Inform Commander Victoria that the orders remain the same." She gritted her teeth. "Search and destroy. Save the hostages the best you can, but take heed that they may already have been bitten."

The soldier hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?"

"The hostages, sir…"

"Spit it out."

"They're an elite family."

"Their social status is not of my concern."

"I was told that the family head is a convention member. By the name of Conningwell."

It was like being struck by lightning. Anessa felt the world spin for a moment. She steadied herself with a hand on her desk.

Three years. It's been three years…

In two quick steps she dashed past the soldier, who hurried behind her. "Contact Commander Victoria," she said. A million thoughts crowded her mind, most of which she had just succeeded to push out of her head not too long ago. "Tell her to hold back. I'm coming to deal with this personally."

The look of shock returned to the soldier's face. Anessa wanted to slap him upside the head. Didn't they tell these recruits anything these days?

"Go!"

The soldier scampered off. Anessa turned on her heels and headed to her room. Once there, she went straight to the closet and pulled out the first thing she laid her hand on – a long black trench coat that would have made her father proud. It served purposes aside form its dashing style, of course. Inside its lining were five small compartments, each specially fitted for a variety of blades, handguns, and magazines.

"The director is heading out personally?"

She shrugged into the coat, allowing a small smile to the figure at her door. Walter adjusted his glasses, holding onto his walking cane with his other hand. He was getting up there in years now, although some may argue that he had been over that hill many times and more. His hair was almost entirely gray, and his hips were bothering him quite a bit on rainy says. Still, that old soldier's cunning was still in his eyes, so was the wise if slightly condescending tone he used to address anyone younger than himself.

"Must we go through this every time, Walter?" she asked teasingly. "You should know by now that you can't stop me."

The old butler huffed. "You assume I'm still young enough to try. You Hellsings always do exactly what you want. I could never stop your mother from rushing into the field either. Especially when she was your age."

"You needn't worry." Anessa pulled her long hair out of her collar. "I'm not like my mother."

"But remember that you are not your father either. Part of you is still mortal."

"A fact you never get sick of reminding me about."

Walter shook his head. "Just be careful."

"Aren't I always?" She grinned. Her pale fangs glistened.

"Don't you flash those things at me, young lady." Walter turned aside with some difficulty as she walked past him. "But don't hurry off just yet. There's something I wanted to give you first. It's a birthday present."

She hesitated. "Can it wait?"

"If it were up to me, perhaps. But it's from your parents, and they, especially your father, had insisted that you receive it on your 18th birthday."

oOo

Mickey stepped aside as "Mr. and Mrs. Van Haunsen" exited their booth. He held the curtain back for them as they emerged, and bowed repeatedly.

"Th-thank you, sir!" he stammered. Mr. Van Haunsen eyed him with confusion as Mrs. Van Haunsen smiled.

"You do tend to leave an impression on people, don't you dear?" she asked her husband.

"You speak of it as if it's a bad thing."

"Only when we're supposed to stay inconspicuous, but I suppose that was never your strong suit."

"I believe the words were 'search and destroy', not 'stay out of sight'."

Their words made little sense to Mickey, but he was too preoccupied to over-think the matter. The gorgeous couple bid him goodnight, a thing not often done by the high-class patrons of the theater, and headed out into the night.

Powdery snow was beginning to fall from the starry skies. The moon was a pale silver, casting its chilly glare upon the bustling city. The couple walked arm-in-arm away from the sleepy crowd.

"I wonder if Anessa received her gift?"

oOo

The Conningwell estate was just how she remembered it, though it'd been a few years since she set foot on it. Though she saw Robert Conningwell as frequently as every gathering of the Convention, Anessa felt a twinge of discomfort as the last memory of Seth resurfaced.

Since that night, after her mother had called a car to send the boy home, she never saw him again. Never again did he call, or drop by, or write. There were no more Friday nights of popcorn and monster movies, or Sunday afternoon chats in the garden. He was not there at her mother's funeral, nor at her succession ceremony. There was a small gathering held in her honor on her sixteenth birthday. She put up a smile all the way through. He did not show up, or even send a card. When it was over, she locked herself in her room and cried into her pillow.

There were other boys a little later on, though their pursuit dwindled somewhat after she took over the directorship. They were intimidated by her position, her power, and her shrew intellect. There were more and more comments regarding how much she was like her mother, who was infamous for her ruthlessness in her early twenties. She wasn't sure if it bothered her or not.

She dated a few boys for appearance, and sometimes because she just had to get out of the house. But eventually even that desire faded. Her parents had left her a job, and that became her concentration.

She began to venture out into the field.

She was a remarkable marksman, and an even better tactician. Under the protest of her sister Seras and Walter, she pushed her way into the battle zone and made a name for herself in the Median underground. The vampires who knew better cowered at the mention of Hellsing, and the ones who didn't lost their head before they could learn.

The Queen died last year. Anessa spoke at her funeral. The new king was book-smart and street-dumb. When it came to dealing with the unknown, he deferred to her. Instead of only keeping an eye on the Median activity, Hellsing began to expand its control to all things occult and supernatural within the region..

But all of that couldn't fill the hole in her half-vampiric heart.

"Sir!"

Anessa shook her head. Reality snapped into focus. The moon was full and the night was cold. The scent of blood was in the air, thick and appetizing.

One of the soldiers stood before her and saluted. She acknowledged him with a nod. "What's the situation?"

"We've secured the area," the soldier replied. "By our estimate there are anywhere from one to two dozen vampires inside, and they claim that they have the house's occupants hostage."

"Do they?" Asked Anessa, casting a thoughtful glance at the mansion's dark windows. "Tell everyone to hold their positions."

The soldier saluted again and disappeared into the night. Anessa made her way to the mansion's front yard. Some of the troops, mostly the new recruits, looked up from their crouched positions long enough to regard her in surprise. She ignored them and went straight to the one who mattered.

Seras didn't turn around when she approached, but Anessa knew her sister well enough to know that she sensed her presence long ago.

"I was hoping you wouldn't come."

She chuckled. "I wouldn't miss the fun for the world."

"You sound just like master."

Anessa tightened the grip on the weapon in her hand. "I'm more like him than you think, sis."

Seras turned to her, but before she could say anything, her eyes fell on the weapon and she gasped.

"Oh my goodness…"

Smirking, Anessa raised the Jackal for her to see. It was quite old now, older than she was, but the glory of its days did not fade in the least. Its black sheen had dulled a bit over the years, and there was a scratch along its side, across the words "Jesus Christ", probably the result of one of her father's "work days". But its power was unhindered, and she had loaded it with six 13mm armor piercing rounds.

"I thought he took it with him," Seras said breathlessly. "I never thought master would part with that gun. It was always his favorite."

"I thought so, too," replied Anessa, caressed the weapon in a way that mirrored her father almost too much for comfort in Seras's eyes. "But seems he left it behind and instructed Walter to give it to me as an 18th birthday present."

"And you're going to use it? Tonight?"

She grinned, exposing her fangs. "If I'm lucky." She lowered the gun to her side. "Where's Father Alex?"

"Inside. He's the only one."

"What's he doing?"

Seras looked at the house with a sigh. "I'm not sure. I think they threatened him with the hostages' lives."

"Sounds like a challenge to me." Without a book back, Anessa stepped past her sister and headed for the house. There were a few nervous gasps from the soldiers.

"Anessa, wait…!"

She turned around long enough to wink. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm my father's daughter."

Seras said something else, but she was too far away to hear. The mansion was deadly silent, almost as if it was wrapped in an invisible soundproof shroud. Or perhaps it was because the soldiers were holding their breath as she approached it. Anessa pushed open the front door and stepped inside.

The house was in complete disarray. The furniture was upturned, rug shredded to pieces, lamps broken and their pieces spread all over. There was a portrait hanging over the fireplace, which had gone cold long ago. She couldn't make out the person in the picture, as the canvas had been torn in half a dozen places.

And there was blood, so much blood that even she felt a bit uneasy. The walls were painted red and crimson, and the occasional vulgarity.

She wrinkled her nose. There was something… familiar in the air.

Apprehension crept onto her as she quickened her step down the front all. Appearing before her was a winding stairwell, and it was below this that Father Alex stood with his head raised. His blades laid in a rough circle at his feet, most likely at the demand of the vampires perched on the balcony above.

There were at least ten of them, and they were agitated. She could tell by their scent. Some of them were excited, and others were just plain nervous. They had just fed, probably from the mansion's staff. She wondered how many "hostages" there actually were.

"Look at that," hissed one of them as she drew near. "They've sent us another one."

Father Alex turned around. His hair had gone a bit paler over the last few years, but aside from that, he looked exactly the same as her earliest memory of him. Just like her father, age seemed to elude him.

"Annie!" he exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"Now, now, Father Alex," Anessa said, sniffed the air as she did. "Let's not use that nickname in front of the prey."

The priest grumbled under his breath. Like Walter and Seras, he was generally opposed to her being in the way of danger.

The familiar scent in the air was thickening as she got closer to the stair. The head vampire looked down at her with its red eyes and bared its fangs. Scoffing, Anessa bared her own. The vampire started, but not as much as she expected.

"So it's true," it said. "Hellsing does have vampires of its own."

"Hellsing has more weapons than you realize," replied Anessa, but the scent was making it hard to concentrate on the vampire. She took another step forward. That smell…

"Then you ought to be helping us," said the vampire. A stir in the shadows behind him caught her attention. "Let us go. Help us gain power and overtake the humans."

Father Alex was watching her. She knew he had noticed her agitation but was saying nothing. Suddenly the head vampire was the least of her concerns.

"This is getting old," she said loudly. "If you think I don't hear the same line from every vampire I've come across you'd be sadly mistaken."

"But if we were to combine forces…"

"Shut up!" she snapped. The other vampires hissed. Heat rose inside her. Something was very wrong and she had to figure out what it was. "We are Hellsing and we do not negotiate with mongrels."

"Well then," said the head vampire with a sneer. "We'll have to do this the hard way."

He dove off the balcony and dropped straight toward her, mouth gaping and aiming straight for her neck. She raised the Jackal and blew his head off. The sound was deafening, but the gun handled like a part of her own body.

The other vampires attacked. Father Alex picked up his blades and took out three with a single strike. The soldier outside was wrong. There were more than two dozen in the mansion.

"Kill them all," she ordered, and headed for the stairs, taking out any vampire that got in her way.

"But this won't do," called Father Alex after her as the vampires swarmed around him. "They'll kill the hostages!"

"They're already dead," replied Anessa. She began to ascend the stairs, ignoring the hissing vampires around her. "They died over an hour ago. The vampires never intended to negotiate."

As if on cue, as she reached the second floor, the shadows that had loomed behind the head vampire made their appearance. They lumbered awkwardly toward her, their broken bodies moving as if held by string.

At their forefront was Robert Conningwell, black holes where his eyes used to be, bloated tongue lolling out of his gray lips. He moaned as ghouls tend to do, as Anessa raised the Jackal to his chest.

"God have mercy on you, Mr. Conningwell," she said, and fired. He fell, along with three others behind him.

_Move the troops, Seras. Take them all out._

Two seconds later gunfire filled the mansion, echoing off the walls as the soldiers of Hellsing burst through its doors. The vampires turned from Father Alex and Anessa, attempting to run, but most were immediately gunned down.

Anessa ignored it. Her bullets were gone, and though she had more in her coat, she did not move to reload her gun. Pushing past the stumbling ghouls, she kept moving down the long hall. That scent was still there, and it was getting stronger. In the distance she heard Seras should a command to the troops, followed by more gunfire.

She counted the doors. One, two, three… she had been here before, three years ago when life was a little simpler. She still remembered the place, the room where she hung out with him during her weekend visits.

There was blood on the handle.

Heart pounding, she gripped it and pushed it open.

The room was dark. For a moment she thought she was mistaken, but then she heard it. The sound of shallow breathing coming from the corner of the room. Her eyes quickly adjusted, and she saw the blood on the floor, on the bed, on the walls and bookshelves, and the body spread facedown on the floor.

And there he was, in the corner, the one whose scent she followed here, praying all the while that there would at least be one survivor.

In the three years gone, Seth had grown up, too.

He was a young man now, a little taller than she was, muscular and handsome as young men tend to be, though it was a bit hard to tell at the moment, with cakes of dried blood on his face. Fresh blood was pouring out of him, out of his nose, mouth, and ears, drizzling down his neck and staining his brown hair. His clothes were torn, and there was a huge gash on his right leg. His pants were nearly soaked through with blood.

The body sprawled on the floor wasn't moving. Anessa stepped over it and went to Seth, who was leaning against the wall haplessly like a rag doll. Gripped in his left hand was a decorative dagger. She knew it well. It used to be propped up on his bookshelf.

Perhaps hearing her footsteps, he turned to her slowly, although she wasn't sure he could see her. Then he smiled, or at least tried.

"Hi, Annie," he rasped, and she wanted to cried and laugh at the same time. Instead, she stood there before him, unsure of what to do next. Slowly, he moved his left hand, but the effort only brought him pain and he let out a sharp groan. The dagger fell from his hand.

She rushed to his side and knelt down, brushed the strands of hair out of his face. He looked into her eyes and she saw that there was laughter and regret in them.

"I went for the heart," he whispered with effort. "Just like you did. That time." There was a pause, followed by several strained breaths. "I'm sorry."

She gripped his hand tightly. He moved, perhaps to be a bit closer to her, but had no strength to hold himself upright. He fell. She caught him and laid him down gently. He struggled to keep his eyes open. The sight of his battered face squeezed at her heart like invisible tentacles.

"Seth?" she said softly, stroking his face. "Can you hear me?"

He nodded just a bit.

"The choice is yours, Seth."

oOo

The cafés outside the Rockefeller center was deserted. The last of the skaters were beginning to yawn and drift toward home. No one paused to wonder if the couple sitting on the snow-covered bench had a place to go.

Alucard pulled Integra close and bathed himself in the scent of her hair. She laid her head on his shoulder.

"Are you cold, master?"

She rubbed her hands together. "Just a little," she replied. He removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders. "You're doing it again."

"Force of habit, I suppose," he said with a shrug. "After all, I did call you that for three decades."

"Well, it's time to stop," said Integra. The snow reflected the moonlight, glowing in all its purity. The square was quiet in the winter night. "I'm your wife now."

"I know." He kissed her forehead. "Are the contacts still bothering you?"

"Less so now. How long before I can change the color of my eyes without them?"

Alucard squeezed her shoulder. "Give it a decade."

"Such a long time."

"It won't feel long. You do have eternity now."

"True."

They sat in silence for a moment as the snow fell all around them, shrouding them in a wonderland of white.

"What would you like to do now?"

Integra considered for a moment. "We could skate. We have the rink all to ourselves."

Alucard snorted. "Not on your life."

"Why not?"

"What makes you think I can skate?"

"I thought if you had time to pick up six languages and a few thousand souls in your lifetime, you'd have learned to skate at some point."

"Never had the chance." He rose and took her arm. "How about a drink? There are some very nice lounges in this area."

She rolled the thought in her mind. "Actually, I'm hungry for something a bit more… substantial," she said, licking her lips in a way that made Alucard very proud. "Are there perhaps… prey in this area?"

"Of course, my dear," replied Alucard. He slipped his hand around hers and they strolled away from the Rockefeller Center unhurriedly. "It's New York City. If you thought London was infested, this place is ten times worse."

"Is that so? I thought America prided itself in having the best of everything."

"Their government is in denial. They don't even have a department devoted to occult and supernatural research."

"Is anything being done about the vampire population at all?"

"Nothing."

"Pity," said Integra, smirking. "But I suppose that makes finding a midnight snack that much easier."

He pulled her close and kissed her passionately. She returned it. Snow continued to fall around them as the moon rose to its full height, greeting them to the first day of the rest of eternity.

oOo

When she entered the room Seth was already up, a shadowy silhouette by the window. She stood at the door and watched him in silence.

He cleaned up well. Very well, in fact. His hair shun dully in the moonlight like honey, brown locks hanging over his handsome features. His strong arms were crossed over his chest as she looked outside at the moon. He was a man now, just like she was a woman. They were no longer children.

He turned around. She smiled shyly and went to the window, but did not go to him. They stood, two feet apart, a million unspoken words in between.

"I never thought you'd choose… this," she said.

Seth leaned against the cold glass. His red eyes sparked in the moonlight, though not as brightly as hers. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're worried about."

"Really?" she moved a little closer. "I thought you'd never agree to it. I thought…"

"I'm sorry."

She started. "What?"

A sad smile spread across his face as he met her gaze. "I've wanted to say it for the last three years, ever since… that night. But I couldn't. There was never a right time. And I felt so embarrassed after what happened. I was so young and stupid, and you…" a faint flush came to his cheeks, not so different from when they were twelve. "You were so amazing. I just didn't realize it then."

She blushed. "So after that night," she said slowly, "you didn't hate me?"

He shook his head. "I was afraid you hated me," he replied. "And I didn't tell anyone what happened. I hope that was the right thing to do."

She nodded. "It was. I was worried."

"I came to a decision as time went by," Seth continued. "I realized how detached I was from my parents as the years went on. When I was younger I was so wrapped up in their lifestyle, their elitism and social life. I couldn't distinguish integrity from pretense. But after you, I found that I couldn't just accept things at face value, like they did. So I left."

"You left?"

"I went out to see the world. I traveled and studied for the past two years, trying to come to terms with what had happened with you and I, and what to do about myself."

"Did you figure it out?"

"Not quite yet. But I knew that things had to change, that I couldn't just follow my father's footsteps. I came back here two days ago, intending to spend some times with him, tell him that fact, and then… this happened. I guess it's fate."

He walked to her and took her hand in both of his. His skin was cool and soothing.

"Why did you agree to become a vampire?" she asked him, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

"Because I'm not ready to die. There's so much I want to learn, and so much I want to make up for." He squeezed her hand. "Is that O.K.?"

She nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is." Pulling out of his grasp, she took his face in both of her hands, and pulled his head downward gently. He closed his eyes as she kissed him on the forehead. "Welcome to Hellsing."


End file.
